


Vampyre

by anantipodean



Series: Vampyre [1]
Category: DCU (Comics), Impulse (Comics), Robin (Comics), Superboy (Comics), Young Justice (Comics)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Victorian, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-20
Updated: 2018-03-20
Packaged: 2019-04-04 23:27:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 35,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14031174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anantipodean/pseuds/anantipodean
Summary: Originally posted on livejournal in 2005 as girl_starfish.Kon's attempt to discover what happened to his missing cousin takes him to Castle Cadmus, and introduces him to an unlikely pair of vampyre hunters.





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> A few days ago, I got a notification of a spam comment on a livejournal post, reminding me that I wanted to get Vampyre and its sequels off livejournal before it inevitably self-destructs. I'm posting the story entirely unchanged. There's a lot I would change if I was writing this today, but I'm making the decision to leave it as it is, questionable characterisation, clunky sentences and all.

The carriage came as something of a shock. 

Kon heard it long before it reached the lonely Inn where he had waited for its arrival. The sharp retort of its passage was somewhat like the clap of metal-sheathed hooves over the stones of the village road, so when it at last rounded the corner in a cloud of metal limbs, Kon took a step back. 

“What is that?”

“’Orseless carriage,” the old man in charge of the Inn’s animals told him disinterestedly. “Bit of an antique.”

“I’ll say.” Kon watched the carriage approach on spidery legs and wondered that it had survived into antiquity. Its gait was ungainly to say the least, although it did cover ground more quickly than horses might have. As it heaved and shuddered to a halt in front of the Inn, Kon had momentary thoughts of turning back. 

The hooded man, obviously the driver, stood from his seat on the front, and before Kon had made up his mind to protest, his bags were swung up to the roof. 

“Is this the carriage to V---?” Kon asked.

“He don’t speak no English,” the old man explained. “But if you climb up, he’ll take you where you need to go.” He turned to converse with the driver in the guttural language of the land, and Kon saw no other option but to do as expected, and mount the carriage.

Here he got his second shock. 

His destination was an ancient castle, occupied by a man who preferred to keep his visitors to the absolute minimum, and was thus situated in as remote a township as could be imagined. Kon had already traveled far beyond the reach of trains and steamboats. To say he was surprised, therefore, to find that the coach was not empty but occupied by persons of rank, would be an understatement. 

“Excuse me,” Kon said with astonishment. “Is this the carriage to V---?”

The young man glanced up from his paper momentarily. He was sharply dressed in a grey suit which even Kon, ignorant of European fashion, could tell was both stylish and of quality. He himself was dark haired, his hair just as smartly cut and presented as the rest of him and his features were sharp and not at all unpleasant. But for a sharpness in his gaze that belied intelligence, and a stubbornness about his chin, he might have been a gentleman of leisure. He couldn’t have been much different from Kon in age, but his attitude as he answered Kon’s question belied a self-composure and maturity remarkable in a youth. “It is.”

He did not seem inclined to comment further, and after sparing Kon a moment’s consideration, went back to reading his paper. 

His companion matched him in style but was completely different in attitude. She was demurely dressed in a forest green dress befitting a young lady of modest years, and while she sat with her hands folded primly in her lap, Kon got the impression of high spirits, held in check with difficulty. She studied him with frank interest and while she wasn’t feminine enough to be thought pretty, she was interesting in her own right. Brown curls were gathered back in a ribbon and she seemed on the point of addressing Kon but a glance at her companion stayed her tongue. 

Kon was at a loss how to proceed from there and as he deliberated, the carriage rumbled into life with a jolt that lost Kon his balance. He stumbled.

There was a squeak of laughter from the young lady, quickly muffled behind a fan and Kon took his seat opposite them, feeling vaguely insulted. 

He might have been more charitably inclined if he’d realised that squeak was the last sound he would receive from either of his companions for an hour. 

The interior of the carriage was enough to occupy Kon’s attention for a while. It was furnished like something out of a novel. The seats were large and deep, upholstered in leather, a little worn in places but belying a proud history. Panels of a rich, dark wood lined the carriage’s sides and velvet drapes hung beside the windows, outside which the landscape swayed past, sometimes alarmingly. Kon placed his hat on the seat beside him and wondered if he should loosen his collar. 

His companion, still silently engrossed in his newspaper, made no allowance to travelling in his dress and Kon reluctantly decided to follow suit. 

Fifteen minutes passed silently, and the only sounds in the carriage were the crisp shuffle of pages as the newspaper was turned, or the soft rustle of fabric as the young lady arranged her skirts. She fidgeted frequently, obviously restless, and Kon more than once caught her watching him. Every time he thought she must surely say something, however, she merely stared at him instead.

“Hello,” Kon said, breaking the silence at last.

She looked doubtfully at Kon and glanced at her companion. 

Just because the gentleman spoke English was no guarantee the lady did the same. Kon addressed his next remark to him. “Are you travelers?”

Disinterested silence.

“Going far?”

Well, Kon thought sourly. Friendly bunch. 

Noticing that the young lady made no attempt to distract her companion, Kon decided that he must indeed be heavily engrossed in his newspaper. He returned to studying the scenery, and stealing surreptitious glances at his companions. 

Perhaps twenty minutes passed before a new sound broke the monotony of the carriage ride. It was a rhythmic, rather liquid sound, and it took Kon a minute or so to locate its source. The lady was chewing gum. 

Kon stared. The contrast between the demure, almost doll-like, appearance of the young lady and the absolute coolness with which she met Kon’s stare, chewing gum with all the practice of a New York street urchin, was such that Kon wondered for a moment if he was imagining it. 

The situation did not go unnoticed by the gentleman traveler, however. He fixed his companion with an icy stare. 

She pouted back at him.

He frowned.

With movements of exaggerated reluctance, the young lady raised herself to the level of the window. Kon drew back his legs to make room for her skirts as she leaned out the window, raising her fan to mask her actions. She shut the window pane sharply as she returned to her seat, and Kon was sorry for the loss of the momentary distraction.

But the entertainment wasn’t entirely over. As the lady settled her skirts neatly, her companion set aside his paper momentarily. “Open your mouth,” he ordered briskly. He placed his hand on her chin as he leaned in to check that his wish had been fulfilled. Evidently satisfied, he released her a few seconds later and he returned to his newspaper, she to sulkily arranging her skirts.

That settled Kon’s deliberations over whether the two were traveling together, and speculations over their relationship. Such obvious closeness could only mean family, although the two were dissimilar enough that the relationship was not apparent at first glance. Still, there could be no other explanation for their obvious freedom with each other as the lady seemed rather young for marriage.

Neither spoke, and after witnessing such a familiar scene, Kon was even less inclined to start conversation. 

Silence reigned once more, interrupted only as the young lady kicked her heels against the base of the seat, or the gentleman turned another page. Kon took to whistling absently as he watched the scenery whirl by. 

At last, the gentleman turned the final page of his paper and folded it away inside his coat with solemn ceremony. 

Now, thought Kon with anticipation, he must surely speak. 

But instead, the young gentleman only straightened his cuffs and settled back languidly to observe the passing of the landscape outside. 

Fifteen minutes of this was all that Kon could endure. 

“I was told that Europeans were inclined to be somewhat reserved,” he said hotly. “But this is ridiculous.”

That earned him a raised eyebrow. “We haven’t been introduced,” the young gentleman explained simply.

Kon stuck out his hand. “Conner Kent,” he said. “I’m an under-graduate of Carnegie, Pittsburgh.”

The young man gave him a startled, measuring gaze and for a few long seconds, Kon was sure his overture had been rejected. Then the man returned the handshake with trademark briskness. “Timothy Drake,” he said. “The Wayne Foundation, London.” He nodded to his companion. “My sister, Beth.”

“How do you do,” she said. 

Kon took her hand with considerably more warmth. “Delighted, Miss Beth.”

“You should call me Miss Drake,” she told him. “Because I’m the only Miss Drake present. If I had a sister, and she was here, you could call me Beth. But I don’t and she isn’t here so --”

“I think Mr. Kent gets the idea.”

Kon tried unsuccessfully to hide his smile. “You’ll have to forgive me,” he said. “I’m not yet used to your European ways.”

“Yes, I’d heard they did things differently in the colonies.” Drake settled back to watch Kon with interest. “Carnegie,” he said thoughtfully. “You wouldn’t be studying under Mr James Harper, would you?”

“Why, yes -- do you know him?” To say Kon was startled would be an understatement.

Miss Drake smirked at Kon as her brother continued. “You are an undergraduate of Carnegie, and you are traveling in parts known only for their inhospitality, their remoteness, and their backwater superstitions. There is nothing out here for either tourists or students save those same backward medival beliefs and it happens that your Mr Harper is something of an expert in them . . .” Drake spread his hands and shrugged. “It’s only logical.”

“I suppose.” Kon was still amazed. “I’m surprised you’ve heard of Prof Harper at all -- I mean, the department hardly gets enough funding as it is --”

“Not at all. His dissertation on the likely origin of the prevalent belief in lycanthropes was most enlightening, even if he did show a disappointing tendency to romaticise certain aspects of the myth.”

“You’ve read his paper on werewolves?” 

Miss Drake poked her brother with her fan. “I rather liked that one,” she said. “He remembered the hairy palms.”

“Wait -- she reads that kind of --?”

“You would like it, but then you’ve always favoured sensationalism over solid facts,” Drake said dryly. “I suppose I should just be thankful that you bothered to pick up something that wasn’t one of your ridiculous penny dreadfuls --”

“Just because they’re not true doesn’t mean they’re not useful,” Miss Drake returned coolly. “You’re not going to get into the mind of the modern revenant from your dusty historic scrolls.”

“You’re not going to get into the mind of the modern revenant,” Drake said firmly. “Because such a thing does not exist.”

Miss Drake drew deep indignant breath. “Sightings! Confirmed by mass witnesses--”

“Gullible peasants repeating what they want to believe --”

“-- proof! Tombs disturbed --”

“-- looters, pillagers, medical students --”

“-- documented medical cases--”

“--illiterate ill-informed quacks who profane the very name of science --”

“You know,” said Kon, dazed. “Disregard my earlier statement. You two may sit in silence as long as you desire.”

They both glanced at him startled, clearly so caught up in their argument that they’d forgotten his presence.

“I do beg your pardon,” Drake said. “We have been most remiss in our manners.”

“As you can see,” Miss Drake explained. “We both share an interest in the preternatural. Tim is a most pugnacious skeptic. He refuses to accept anything but what he sees himself, and sometimes not even then. He lives to stamp out what he calls ‘backward superstitions,’ and refuses to accept any opinion but his own.”

“Beth, as you’re no doubt aware, is no scientist,” Drake said calmly. “She’ll believe anything, and is capable of creating a horror story out of a shadowy room and a creaking door.”

“Amazing that two siblings could hold such contrary beliefs,” Kon said.

To his surprise both merely looked knowingly at him. 

“You’re an only child, aren’t you?” Drake smirked. “It shows.”

Kon found the look discomfiting and hastily changed subjects. “So what brings you to these parts?” he asked. “Professor Harper gave me to understand that this area is ripe with old beliefs -- hardly a fitting atmosphere for one of your views, Mr Drake?”

“That’s where you’re wrong,” Miss Drake corrected him. “Tim doesn’t enjoy scoffing from a distance. He prefers to do his mocking of ancient custom and slandering of worthy people up front.”

“What my sister is trying to say,” Drake said dryly. “Is that I have made it my life’s mission to stamp out these beliefs wherever I find them and bring the light of science to the uneducated masses. As a matter of fact, I’m here on commission from the Wayne Foundation. A vampyre has been reported in the neighbourhood and I intend to get to the truth of the matter.”

“A vampire?” Kon straightened. “What -- really?”

“Vampyre,” Miss Drake corrected him. “Really.”

Kon was rather taken back by the obvious pleasure with which she pronounced this fact. He glanced at Drake. “And you’re willingly bringing your sister into this area, knowing that a monster may roam these lands?”

“I pity any vampyre who choses Beth for a snack,” Drake said with wry amusement and a fond tone -- the most brotherly words he’d spoken. “Besides, Beth would not have missed this excursion for the world.”

“I’m going to write about it for the Society of Seekers into the Supernatural,” Miss Drake said happily. “I’m sure it’ll be even more thrilling than my essay on the feeding habits of the Russian Witch.”

“Mr Kent doesn’t want to hear about the collection of rumour you call a magazine --”

“He’s Harper’s pupil, isn’t he? Of course he wants to hear about it. He’s on my side.”

“Mr Kent appears to be of at least average intelligence, which is more than enough to ensure that he sees the fallacy of such belief --”

As they seemed quite capable of carrying on in this regard for some time, Kon thought it excusable to interrupt. “As it happens, I have to agree with the lady,” he said. “I’ve . . . well, let’s just leave it that I’ve seen some things that can’t be explained by science, or at least, no science known to man.”

He expected scorn from Drake, or an exclamation of delight and further questioning from his sister, and was surprised at the look they shared. Considering, thoughtful but most of all . . . understanding. 

“You’re a long way from home,” Drake said. “Do you have friends in the neighbourhood?”

Kon shook his head. “I have a letter of recommendation to Herr Luthor, an acquaintance of Harper’s. He hopes that Luthor will agree to put me up at his castle that I might use his library to further my studies. Failing that, I hope I can find an Inn or an hospitable local family --”

“We’re going to Castle Cadmus too,” Miss Drake said. “Isn’t that a lucky coincidence?”

“Hardly,” Drake said. “Anyone who travels these unfortunate paths are almost definitely bound for Cadmus. Luthor’s is the only holding of note around here.”

“Luthor’s the only reason there’s a carriage at all,” Miss Drake added, but Kon was more concerned with the fact of their destination. 

“I understand that Luthor is a man devoted to the study of arcane ritual and belief,” he said cautiously. “Forgive my asking but --”

“How did a skeptic such as myself receive an invitation?” Drake seemed to appreciate the inquiry. “As a matter of fact, I’ve put my name to a couple of papers of my own. In seeking to stamp out these errant beliefs, I have become rather knowledgable in the arcane myself. As it happens, Luthor invited Mr Wayne, a man I regard as one of the foremost scientific minds of our time and a mentor to me, to investigate his vampire and avail himself of Luthor’s vast collection of books. Sadly, Mr Wayne could not accept, but I was fixed upon as an acceptable substitute and here we are.”

“Here we are indeed,” Kon said, surprised to find that the prospect of sharing the Drakes’ company a while longer pleased him. Even given their inhospitable mannerisms, the prospect of sharing a common interest with people near his age -- people enthusiastic and well-informed on the subject of their common interest no less -- was such a novelty to Kon as to outweigh any coolness on Drake’s part. 

He said as much, and Miss Drake fixed upon the suggestion with alarcity. “Yes. Do let’s be friends,” she said. “You can help us investigate the vampyre.”

“Beth, Mr Kent did not travel all the way from America to indulge your childish whims,” Drake pointed out. “Let the man do his research.”

“As it happens,” Kon said, “I am here to further my studies and I can’t think anything Prof would approve of me doing more than charting the progress of a real live vampire.”

Miss Drake beamed at him, well-pleased, but that didn’t prevent her from correcting him. “Dead.”

“What?”

“Vampyres aren’t generally alive,” she said. 

“I knew that.”

Drake watched the exchange with an amused smile. “I can see that the two of you will be fast friends,” he said. “But swapping theories on the source of V--’s trouble shall have to wait. We’ve reached the township.”


	2. A Scenic Diversion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tim procures a carriage. Beth annoys a horse. I don't remember any of this.

While Drake consulted with the hooded driver, Kon availed himself of the chance to stretch his legs. He descended from the carriage intending to stroll about the town while he could. It was not, at first glance, a prepossessing place. Quite a few houses stood open, deserted, and those that weren’t had thick boards nailed over their windows. The inhabitants watched suspiciously from their doorways. All in all, the impression was not one of welcome.

Miss Drake cleared her throat. Kon turned to find that she had followed him to the door of the carriage and now stood there, regarding him with a look of expectation. He returned the gaze, baffled. 

Drake came to the rescue. “Are you sure you want to come down?” he asked his sister. “Very well, then. But don’t go changing your mind in five minutes.” He placed his hands on her waist, and, in a flurry of skirts and lace, swung her lightly to the ground. 

Kon noted the slight glimpse of petticoat with interest, before belatedly remembering to avert his eyes for propriety’s sake.

“There,” Drake said, evidently helping his sister settle her skirts. “Do you want your wrap?”

The appearance of a female created something of a stir amongst the villagers. A couple of older men now approached the group, and seemed very urgent in their speech, remonstrating with Drake.

“What are they saying?” Kon asked.

“That this is no fit place for a young woman,” Drake said, listening intently. “The danger to my sister is great. They advise that we return immediately.”

“Oh.” Kon glanced towards Miss Drake, observing the town and its inhabitants with as much interest as they were showing her. “What will you do?”

“Try and convince one of them to take us up to Castle Cadmus, of course.” Drake said. “You don’t expect Beth to walk there?”

Finding someone willing to transport them the rest of the way to the Castle was rather difficult. As the hooded coachman unloaded their luggage from the carriage, Drake continued to press the villagers for either someone to transport them or a messenger to go and let Herr Luthor know they had arrived. They were reluctant to say the least, and from the gestures made to the sun, leaning low in the afternoon sky, Kon gathered they were not willing to travel at night. 

“Can’t we take the carriage the extra way?”

“I already asked,” Drake said. “The road isn’t wide enough. Why don’t you take a ramble a bit while I see what I can do here?”

“I want to walk too,” Miss Drake said. “Let’s go together.”

“Then you’ll want you parasol,” Mr Drake said. “Hold on, I’ll get it down for you.”

“I don’t want my parasol.”

“Of course you want your parasol. You’re going for a walk.”

“I want my pistol.”

Kon, observing the siblings’ interaction with amusement, did a double take. Pistol? She had to be lifted from a carriage, but she was capable of firing a gun? European women were beyond him. 

“You should have said that before I locked the trunks. I’m not opening them again.” Drake handed his sister her parasol. “There. Don’t go too far.”

Miss Drake tugged at Kon’s sleeve. “Offer me your arm.” She arranged herself neatly at Kon’s side. “Ready?” 

She spoke to Kon, but was looking at her brother. 

Drake merely raised an eyebrow. “Don’t take too long. I hope to have this sorted out within the hour.”

Kon had the distinct impression of being caught in the middle of something.

A couple of children, bolder than their fellows, left their doorways to follow Kon and Miss Drake down the road out of the village. They shouted and pointed at Miss Drake and made fangs with their fingers. 

“Charming,” Miss Drake remarked.

“You understand what they’re saying?”

“Not all of it. Mostly just that I’m going to die.”

“Hey! None of that!” Kon took a few steps towards the children, intending to scold them, but they shrieked and ran back to their houses. “Don’t pay them any heed, Miss Drake,” Kon said. “You know how children get.”

She beamed at him. “I’m not worried, Mr. Kent, but it is kind of you to concern yourself all the same.” She surveyed the gaunt scenery around them, the thin, twisted trees, the lengthening shadows and the anxious looking herd of goats with evident satisfaction. “How depressing this place is!”

“You’re not even slightly alarmed?”

“You forget,” Miss Drake told him. “I came here knowing that this vampyre apparently favours young women as its victims. If I were scared, I would have stayed in London.”

She spoke so composedly, Kon couldn’t doubt her words. However, her appearance, more suited to a garden-party or fashionable drawing room than a forsaken country visit and vampyre hunting still puzzled him.

Drake was evidently a restraining influence on his sister. Parted from him, she spoke much more freely, bullying Kon into carrying her parasol so that she could hitch up her skirts and walk along the top of a partially ruined stone fence, and remarking upon anything that came onto her mind. It was difficult to keep up with her conversation, so Kon contented himself with walking beside her and making sure she didn’t fall off the fence. 

“A proper wolf could get over this fence easily, I bet,” she said. “You know, that’s how vampyres are supposed to start? The religious types say it’s only very wicked people, or suicides that become revenants, but out here they remember the old tales.”

Kon recognised the allusion. “Harper’s of the opinion that the uncertainty surrounding lycanthropes contributed to that part of the vampire myth, and is an obvious misconception. There is no reason to suppose that eating meat killed by a wolf will cause the eater to, upon their death, return as a revenant.”

“Vampyres are supposed to take the form of a black creature on occasion,” Miss Drake pointed out. “It’s possible --” She paused. “How odd.”

“What do you see?”

“It looks as though there is a village a few valleys over. I think I see a steeple -- but this is supposed to be the only habited spot in this area.”

“The light is getting bad. At this distance an outcrop of rocks might look like a house --”

“Come up here and see for yourself. I’m positive it’s a village.”

Kon had misgivings, but climbed onto the top of the stone fence anyway. “It does look like a village,” he said. “Look, I think this even used to be a road --”

“It’s been ploughed up,” Miss Drake said. “Help me down, I want to see.”

It was no great chore to shift her from the fence to the ground, but her pre-emptory attitude could become annoying. “One wonders that given your active nature, you don’t adopt a style of dress more suited to climbing over fences.”

“Oh, I wish!” said Miss Drake, her face clouded.

Kon set her down, startled. “I know that European fashions are different but surely you could have a walking suit made --”

“My brother has very set views on women’s clothing,” Miss Drake said, hitching up her skirts to keep them out of the grass. “These views don’t include walking suits.”

“Surely he sees the obvious advantage in your adopting a style of dress that allows you the freedom of movement necessary for this style of exploration --”

“My freedom of movement is not exactly a concern of his,” Miss Drake said with an ironic smile that had Kon puzzled. It was gone as she continued. “As long as I’m a Drake, I must dress as befits a Drake, he says.”

“You cannot appeal to your parents?”

“We neither of us have parents living,” she said absently. 

That was an odd way to put it, Kon thought. “I’m also an orphan.”

“Really? Another thing we all have in common -- oh, Tim wants us.”

Drake had failed to secure a guide, but he had convinced one of the village farmers to lend him a cart and a horse. “We’ll have to leave most our luggage overnight. One of the men will bring it tomorrow but we can get to the castle tonight,” he explained. 

“Is it all right to leave our stuff behind?” Kon wondered.

“I advise you to lock your cases, of course,” Drake said. “But they understand that they don’t get paid unless our luggage arrives intact and in good condition.”

“Of course,” Kon agreed. “But I was thinking more of your sister.”

Drake frowned at him. “Beth can be trying,” he said. “But I hope you’re not suggesting we leave her behind.”

“No, no.” Kon protested hastily. “I was thinking about her luggage.” He gestured to the three boxes that contained Miss Drake’s travelling wardrobe. “Women need more.”

“We can’t possibly fit more than one case per person,” Drake said as if this settled things. “Beth will manage.”

Miss Drake did manage. “This one has my night things, my day dress and my pistol,” she said. “I can borrow a writing case if I need it.”

“My case is all I need. Mr Kent?”

Kon patted his trunk. “I can make do with just this.”

“Excellent,” Drake said. “Beth, stop annoying the horse.”

The cart that Drake had managed to procure for them was so rickety that Kon thought the walk might have been preferable. The horse, like the other animals was nervous and ill-nourished, rolling it’s eyes as they approached. 

Kon felt sorry for it. “Easy,” he said patting its side. 

“You’ve experience with horses.”

“Raised on a farm,” Kon said, smiling as the horse calmed down enough that it stopped tugging at halter. 

“I should have known,” Drake said dryly. “Beth, you’ll be in the back with the luggage.”

“Shouldn’t Miss Drake be consulted --”

“Unnecessary,” Drake said, giving directions to the farmers to load their chosen luggage into the back of the cart.

It’s not your place to comment, Kon reminded himself. These are not your people, these are not your customs. He helped Miss Drake climb into the back of the cart and settle herself on a trunk. 

“Will you be fine here?” he asked.

“Oh, yes,” she said, as her brother settled her wrap around her shoulders. “Don’t worry about me at all.”

“Beth is not one of those society ladies incapable of enduring a little discomfort,” Drake said, making sure his sister had her parasol within reach. “Would you like to drive, Mr Kent? I shall take the passenger seat and tender you instructions.”

It was that habit of Drake’s, to pay his sister the meticulous attention a lady deserved one moment, then treat her as though her nerve and spirit were of masculine fortitude the next, that puzzled Kon. He said nothing, climbing instead into the driver’s seat. “Ready to go?”


	3. Now With Added Protein

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our so-called "heroes" attack some poor, undoubtedly endangered wolves.

The sun was very low indeed by the time they started, and the shadows grew rapidly longer as they travelled through fields and farmland. The road to Cadmus castle plunged into thick forest for more than two thirds of the journey, and any light at all was quickly lost amongst the desnse foliage. Drake lit the kerosene lanterns the village folk had lent them and their light gave some definition to the road in front of them, but for the most part, they relied upon the instinct of the horse who had evidently made the journey many times before.

“Grim countryside,” Kon remarked. 

“Is it?” Drake said. “Different from Pennsylvania then?”

Kon nodded. “It’s gaunt, rather dreary in aspect, or at least it seems so to me. The houses are quaint, and the fields show of man’s long settlement in this area but while in other locales such things would be interesting and novel, it seems that here they languish under a strange cloud of neglect.”

Drake laughed. “It is too easy to read the fears of the peasant folk into the landscape,” he said. “Dismiss these thoughts from your mind. The decline of the countryside is due not to any supernatural being, but the current trend towards city living. Many rural communities have become underpopulated due to the exodus of their inhabitants to more appealing climes.”

“We never told you about the village we saw in the other valley,” Miss Drake said from the back of the cart. 

“There is no other village in the maps, or in the reports --”

“I know.”

Drake turned to question his sister about this more closely and as he did the horse flicked its ears, starting to increase its pase. Kon had noticed that it seemed to be growing restless and anxious, and he let it increase the pace unchecked. Did it detect something in the woods beyond? Kon scanned the trees but did not see anything amiss. 

He decided against informing his companions of his suspicions. Drake would probably scoff, and he did not wish to alarm Miss Drake.

As it happened, his precautions were unnecessary. 

“I think there’s something out there.”

Drake looked sharply at his sister. “You see anything?”

“No, I -- there. Something’s following in the trees behind us.” She held out her hand. “Give me the key for my case -- I want my pistol.”

Drake patted Kon’s shoulder, climbing from the passenger’s seat to the back of the cart with his sister. “Keep going straight ahead. When we reach the fork go left, and it’s all straight from there.”

Kon nodded, urging the horse to increase its pace. He heard the click of cases opening, and the metallic click of guns being loaded, and felt a bit reassured. 

“It’s keeping pace with the cart,” Miss Drake said. 

“No human could sustain this pace,” Drake noted. “Animal then.”

“Or some manner of inhuman--”

“Now is not the time to indulge in fairy tales --”

At that moment, a chilling sound interrupted the sibling’s argument, causing the horse to kick its heels in terror and a chill to travel Kon’s spine, a monstrous, beastial howl that was immediately picked up on all sides of the trail. 

“Werewolves!” Miss Drake gasped.

“Wild dogs,” her brother said coolly. “Beth, your night vision is better. Take the rifle.”

Kon, concentrating on the road ahead, saw beady eyes glitter in the light of the lamp. “They’re ahead of us!” he said, and that was all the warning they got before the horse dug its heels in, sending the cart to a sudden, shuddering stop. 

Like slick shadows, the animals slipped from the woods, prowling around the cart in a wary circle. The light of the lantern revealed them to be gaunt and grey, with fierce bared teeth.

“Canis Lupus Minor,” Drake said. “The Austro-Hungarian wolf.”

“They’re rather scrawny for wolves,” Miss Drake said, aiming her gun as the wolves slunk closer. “Are they endangered?”

“They are now,” Drake said with a slight smirk. “Prepare yourself. We fire on three. One, two --”

The two guns fired in perfect synchronisation and all was chaos. With a pained yelp, the lead wolf fell back and the others scattered into the cover of the trees with fierce growls. The horse panicked, and ignoring Kon’s attempts to control it, charged down the path at break-neck speed. The cart bucked, and there was a startled exclamation from Drake, followed a second later by a scream from his sister. 

“Tim!”

Kon, hands full with trying to control the horse, glanced back over his shoulder to see Drake stumble to his feet in the middle of the road. Before he could do more than tug on the reins, in a vain attempt to slow the panicked horse, Miss Drake had snatched up her gun and followed her brother over the side of the cart.

“Don’t --” Kon’s protest came to late, and the two were quickly left far behind. The horse was beyond terrified, and it took all Kon’s skill just to keep it on the path. As he waited for its frantic pace to exhaust itself, Kon gave vent to his feelings, using every swearword he knew. 

Finally, he was able to bring the animal to a complete halt. The horse shivered and skittered, starting at every movement of the trees around them. Kon couldn’t blame it for being frightened. The woods around them had gone quiet. Kon surveyed the road behind him with misgivings. He’d heard the report of a gun during the horse’s mad flight, but nothing since. 

How long had they been out there? Kon couldn’t tell whether it had been minutes or half an hour, his heart still beating rapidly. The horse dug its feet in and refused Kon’s efforts to turn the cart around and go back, and an inspection of the road revealed it was too narrow to make such a turn even possible. So what could he do? He couldn’t leave the horse -- but Drake and his sister were out there alone --

Kon hesitated, then left the horse to dig in the back of the cart. Drake had dropped his gun when he’d fallen and Kon, keeping a firm hold on the horse’s reins to insure it didn’t bolt again, fired a shot overhead.

There was an answering report a few minutes later. Kon breathed a sigh of relief. They were close.

Kon did not know how long it was, only that it seemed an age, until he heard the sound of voices among the trees.

“--poor light,” Drake said, and he sounded somewhat strained but still himself. “Impossible to make out anything.”

“--know what I saw. I fired at it and it kind of melted away -- a shadow wouldn’t do that --”

Kon lifted the lantern and saw them come into view with utmost relief. “Thank goodness you’re safe,” he greeted them. “Are you injured? Hurt?”

“Mr Kent!” Miss Drake returned his greeting with obvious worry. “Tim has hurt his foot! He’s limping!”

Now that they were closer, Kon could see that Drake lent on his sister for aid. “Let’s get him up in the cart, quickly.”

“I’m all right,” Drake said with annoyance. “No need to make a fuss.”

Between the efforts of Kon and Miss Drake, it did not take long to have Drake settled comfortably in the back of the cart. Miss Drake climbed up beside her brother, and Kon took up the reins. 

“Examination of your foot will have to wait until we reach the castle,” he said. “I think our first priority is getting out of this hellish forest.”

Drake smiled faintly. “I couldn’t agree more,” he said. “Mr Kent, if you’d be so kind?”

The horse seemed to be of the same mind as the rest of them, setting a brisk pace down the road. The woods were silent around them, and there were no more alarms. Kon breathed easy, as they came to the fork in the road that Drake had mentioned and directed the horse towards the Castle. “Can’t be long now,” he said, turning back to share this good news with his companions.

They didn’t hear.

Miss Drake was studying her brother with an air of great concern, and as Kon watched, she leaned in to kiss him on his forehead, then curled against his side, resting her head against his side. Drake’s cool expression softened somewhat, and he slid an arm around her shoulders to gather her close to his chest. Kon looked away hastily as Drake let his fingers run through her hair gently. Such expression of filial affection was only natural, but his companions were such intensely private individuals that he did not want them to think themselves observed. He said nothing more until the Castle itself came into sight. 

“Looks like we’re here.”

“At last!” Miss Drake leaned over Kon’s shoulder to peer at the approaching building. “It’s rather bigger than I thought.”

“This used to be a major holding. I told you --”

“Tim, don’t speak. You should be resting.”

“I hurt my foot, not my head, Beth. I don’t need to rest, I need an ice-pack.”

Being injured did not seem to have affected Drake’s attitude at all. “What happened?” Kon asked. “I heard you fall, but with the horse taking fright --”

“I lost my balance is all. I dropped my pistol when I fell, and if it hadn’t been for Beth I should have been in difficulty.”

Kon couldn’t help but note that she hadn’t required any assistance to jump from the moving cart that time. “You have a remarkable sister,” he said. “I can’t imagine many women -- or men for that matter -- so quick to risk their lives. Most remarkable --”

“You flatter me,” Miss Drake said. “I was simply so worried for Tim I didn’t think --”

“That I believe,” Drake said ironically, his smile taking the bite out of his words. “Never one to hesitate when lives are at stake.”

“She’s done this before?” Kon demanded, incredulously. 

Drake looked at his sister. 

“No,” he said. 

“Not at all,” she said. 

“Hardly ever in fact.”

“Not so you’d notice.”

“Right,” said Kon, unconvinced. He shook his head. “Wait till I write Pa,” he said. “I thought American women were strong-willed.”

Miss Drake put her hand on Kon’s arm. “But you can’t tell anyone about this!”

“Why not?” Kon demanded. “Such heroic behavior deserves recognition --”

“That’s it exactly,” Drake said. “Can you imagine how the attention resulting from such a tale could affect someone of such gentle and retiring nature as my sister? Please, Mr Kent, for her sake.”

Kon wondered briefly if they were talking about the same sister, but looking at the hopeful expressions on both Drake’s faces, he sighed. “If that is her wish, I’ll keep quiet,” he said. “But you must tell me, what became of the wolves?”

“I imagine the three Beth didn’t kill are running as fast as their mangy legs will take them,” Drake said and Miss Drake beamed proudly. 

“Both on the first shot.”

She was not pretty, but flush with success and the excitement of their adventure, colour in her cheeks and her eyes sparkling -- she was something else. 

“That’s some shooting.”

“I have good night vision.”

“Is that right?” Kon smiled. “What were the other shots?”

“Other shots?” Drake said cautiously. 

“I heard more than two.”

“There was this monstrous shadow beast -- I’m not sure what it was!” Miss Drake said in tones of great excitement. “I emptied three bullets into it, and it didn’t react -- just sort of melted away. I’ve never seen the like--”

Drake shook his head. “Mere shadow,” he said. “My sister was overwrought --”

“I’ll show you overwrought --”

But Miss Drake’s demonstration would have to wait. They had arrived at the Castle Cadmus.


	4. In which they arrive at the castle to a less than warm welcome, acquaintances are formed, and Kon considers the age old question; 'What's in a name?'

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beth meets a ghost. Kon overhears an interesting conversation.

The welcome they received at Castle Cadmus was such that it made the Drakes appear positively hospitable in contrast. Despite the fact that Drake was obviously injured, and his sister was shivering with cold, the servants kept them outside until Luthor could be sent for. 

“What happened to charity and brotherhood?” Kon wondered, as they waited. 

“They’re afraid,” Drake said. “You can’t blame them.”

“Some believe vampyres require invitation to cross a threshold,” Miss Drake added. “And if you’ve read Camilla you’d know that pretending an injury is a common method for a vampire to secure a place under a roof --”

“We’ve been over this before, Beth,” Drake said sternly. “Camilla is a novel. Not fact --”

There was a sudden clatter at the front door, and a well dressed man emerged. He was commanding in attitude, and that, combined with his baldness and the respect with which the servants addressed him, identified him as Herr Luthor.

“Rather late to be travelling,” he said with a curious glance at the cart and it’s occupants, much the worse for the wear after their adventure in the woods. “I don’t recall expecting visitors --” Then his eyes fell upon Kon and his brow cleared. “Can this be Conner Kent? You’re the living image of your cousin.”

Kon managed a tight smile, returning Luthor’s handshake. “It’s an honour to be here. I’m deeply indebted to you for your invitation--”

“Not at all! I’m delighted to have you here.” Luthor turned to the Drakes. “And these are friends of yours. . . ?”

“I made the Drake’s acquaintance on the journey,” Kon explained, as Miss Drake helped her brother to his feet that he might greet Luthor. 

Drake nodded stiffly. “Timothy Drake, of the Wayne Foundation for Scientific Understanding and Innovation,” he said. “Please excuse me that I don’t bow. We had a slight mishap involving some of your regional fauna on the journey here.”

“Wolves,” Kon clarified. “Our horse bolted, and Drake was thrown from the cart.”

“Only one of Bruce’s prodigies would describe such a perilous encounter as a slight mishap,” Luthor said. “I’m glad to have you here, Mr Drake. And is this charming young lady your sister?”

Miss Drake curtsied in response. “I don’t want to press you,” she said. “But my brother has been hurt. His foot --”

“We’ll get you all inside immediately,” Luthor said, turning to give his servants their orders. “I do apologise for the delay. We have to be careful. There have been two more deaths in the neighbourhood this past week and we are all quite anxious.”

“We surmised as much,” Drake said, leaning on a servant’s shoulder as they made their way inside. “We noticed quite an atmosphere of worry in town.”

“Yes, these tragic deaths are affecting us all. They -- I say. My dear girl -- what remarkable eyes you have.”

Luthor had so far been the very model of a concerned and well mannered host, and his next actions took Kon by surprise. He’d taken Miss Drake by her arm, and ignoring her obvious discomfort and embarrassment, pulled her close to him. “Come into the light -- yes, most unusual.” He sounded rather pleased as he continued. “A family trait?”

Drake placed his hand firmly over Luthor’s wrist. “If you’ll forgive me,” he said. “My sister is somewhat self-conscious about her appearance. I’d beg you not to press her --” There was a note of warning in his voice.

“I do beg your pardon.” Luthor was instantly smiles and charm again, releasing Miss Drake with an apologetic bow. “That was uncommonly rude of me, Miss Drake.”

Kon, by now accustomed to Miss Drake’s high spirits, was astonished when she managed a weak smile in response to Luthor’s words, crossing immediately to stand by her brother’s side where she remained for the rest of the encounter. Odd that she could jump from a moving cart without thought, but a compliment had her hiding behind her brother, Kon thought, determined to get to the bottom of this mystery. 

Luthor showed them into a drawing room, where a fire was lit and a bottle of wine laid out on a side table.  
Drake was settled in an easy chair, and an ice-pack sent for.

“I confess that you find us at something of a disadvantage,” Luthor explained, pouring three glasses of wine for them. “While we were, of course, expecting your arrival, we did not anticipate that our guests would arrive together. As a result, we only have two rooms prepared for you. As the lady, of course, will need privacy, can I prevail upon you Mr Kent and Mr Drake to share a room for this evening?”

“Certainly,” Kon said, and Drake added.

“It would be no hardship and indeed, I wouldn’t object to sharing Mr Kent’s company the entirety of our stay.”

Kon had the notion of being paid a huge compliment. 

The wine was drunk in order to revive their spirits, and Luthor, having studied medicine at one point, had Drake’s shoe removed so he could examine his injury. 

“A sprain,” he said. “You shall need to rest this foot for the next few days. I shall see that it is properly bound.”

“I thank you,” Drake nodded. “If you don’t mind, my sister would like to retire for the night. This has been hard on her nerves, and I’m sure she would much prefer to meet the rest of your guests in the morning, once she has had the chance to freshen up.”

“How did you know I had -- what am I saying? Far be it from me to enquire how a pupil of Wayne’s knows anything,” Luthor laughed, pulling the bell cord to summon a servant. “Please show Miss Drake to the room we’ve prepared for her,” he instructed the butler. “Her luggage has already been taken up? Excellent.”

As Miss Drake was shown out of the room, Kon turned curiously to Luthor. “Other guests?” he asked. Harper had warned him that Luthor was an eccentric who preferred solitude for his various experiments.

“Yes, we have rather a full house. I have staying with me at the moment the noted big-game hunter, Slade Wilson, and his assistant, Mr Pratt. Then there is Adam Teth, a renowned mystic and Mrs Waller, a fellow compatriot of yours, Mr Kent, who is continuing her late husband’s studies.”

“All here for the vampire? He is popular indeed.” Drake remarked.

“How did you decide the vampire was a he?” 

“All of the victims so far have been young females, have they not? It stands to reason.”

“Very good, Drake. As it happens, the sightings we’ve had reported so far do confirm your supposition.” Luthor paused to regard Drake closely. “Although I was given to believe that you doubted the existence of our monster . . . ?”

“I use the term vampyre lightly,” Drake explained. “Undoubtedly, your so-called monster is a lunatic, of the same kind as the notorious Ripper -- has news of that regrettable incident reached you yet?”

“We had heard something of the affair --” Luthor started, but he was interrupted by a sudden, startled scream. 

“Beth!”

“Do not distress yourself, Mr Drake. Please – stay where you are. You must not aggravate your injury. Have no fear for your sister, I was expecting this contingency and the servants have been instructed accordingly.”

“What the d---- do you mean?” Drake demanded, and Kon couldn’t help but agree. Playing on a young woman’s nerves, especially after such a night was inexcusable!

“It so happens that the chamber we assigned your sister has a reputation,” Luthor said with a smile that Kon found he distrusted immensely. “Knowing of her penchant for the supernatural, I thought she would be gratified by the arrangement.”

“I demand that you change our rooms immediately,” Drake said. “I will not allow her to be exposed to any danger --”

“There is no danger, I assure you,” Luthor answered. “Besides, it would be completely out of the question to change the rooms. The ghost in question is a young female. To thrust male company on her, uninvited, would be callous in the highest degree.”

“Callous --” Drake started, but a knock at the door prevented him from going any further.

The butler entered and bowed. “A message for Mr Drake from his sister,” he announced, handing a folded piece of paper to Drake and bowing himself out of the room. 

Drake glanced at the paper. “My sister gives her compliments to Herr Luthor for his thoughtful choice of bedchamber,” he announced ruefully. “And she entreats that I join her as quickly as possible that I might make the acquaintance of her ghost.” He tucked the message away inside his jacket. “Will you excuse me?”

“Of course,” Luthor said. “I shall send for someone to help you to your room immediately.”

As Kon made to follow Drake, Luthor detained him. “I imagine you must be tired after your long journey, Mr Kent, but could I trouble you for a moment of your time? I am curious as to what has become of my acquaintance, Harper, and the welfare of your esteemed family.”

For all that Luthor professed interest in Harper and the Kents, most of the conversation centred on Kon’s studies and his impressions of Europe. Luthor was such an interested listener, that Kon found himself able to talk naturally and freely of his history thus far. 

“I think Harper was right to send you to me,” Luthor said at last. “I have in my possession some volumes that must be of great use to you in your line of investigation. My library shall be put at your disposal tomorrow. But I see you yawn -- do forgive me, I have kept you late.” Luthor rang the bell again for the redoubtable butler. “See Mr Kent to the room he shares with Mr Drake, will you?” He shook Kon’s hand once more. “We shall talk more of these matters on the morrow.”

“I look forward to it,” said Kon. 

It was the first time Kon had stayed in a castle, and he looked with interest at the stone corridors and stairways that they traveled, decorated with old portraits and fraying tapestries. 

The butler bowed as they reached the top of a flight of stairs. “Sir will find his room on the left,” he announced, disappearing down the stairs again without so much as a goodnight.

Kon did not intend to eavesdrop, but it happened that his hearing was unusually sensitive and even before he opened the door the quiet murmur of the Drakes’ conversation was audible to him. 

“I should never have come,” Miss Drake was saying with evident unhappiness as Kon entered. “He – Mr Kent! I wasn’t expecting you to retire so early.”

“So I see,” Kon said, amused. 

Miss Drake was in her night clothes, a white pantaloon and nightgown set, heavily adorned in lace and ribbon. Her brown hair had been gathered into two loose pigtails and she was blushing as she stood. It was amazing how much difference a good tailor made, Kon thought regretfully. Out of her traveling dress, Miss Drake had no figure to speak of – Kon reprimanded himself mentally. Miss Drake was neither sophisticated or beautiful, and while he enjoyed her company, he had no wish to fall in love with her. What did it matter, therefore, what figure she had?

Unconscious of Kon’s train of thought, Miss Drake hastily bid goodnight to her brother. “Do rest well,” she entreated him. “I’ll come see you first thing in the morning.”

“Before you go,” Kon said. “I didn’t mean to overhear but I can’t help wondering . . . why would your brother address you as Bart?”

They stared at him. 

“Bart?” said Drake. “Surely you misheard—“

“It’s short for Bartholemew,” Miss Drake said helpfully.

“I gathered,” Kon said. “But why would he call you by a boy’s name?”

“Siblings often give each other nicknames,” Drake said, breezily. “And Beth already has a girl’s name. She doesn’t need another. Consider it a sign of affection.”

Kon frowned. “You call your sister by a boy’s name as a sign of affection? Isn’t that a little --”

Miss Drake drew herself up proudly. “These are changing times,” she said. “And I am a liberated woman! I can chose to be addressed however I want and if I decide to be called Bartholemew—“

“Easy!” Kon said putting his hands up hastily to dissuade her. “All right, I concede. If you want to be called Bart, that’s your decision. That doesn’t explain though why you call your brother Rob.”

Miss Drake smiled sweetly at him. “It’s short for Roberta,” she said. “Good evening, gentlemen.” She departed, leaving both men in silence. 

“Sisters,” Drake said, at last. “They –“

Kon put a hand up. “I don’t want to know,” he said. 

He was beginning to think what they said about Europeans was true.


	5. Corsets, Fact and Fiction.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luthor goes on about vampires.

The cheerful rattle of tea cups and the sound of tea being poured woke Kon the next morning. He swore, and attempted to pull the pillows over his head. “What the b----- are you doing, barging in here at this time of the morning?” he complained. “Take your teacups and go to the d----, fiends of hell.”

“Such language,” Drake reprimanded him tartly. “And in front of a lady too.”

Miss Drake beamed at him. “Good morning, Mr Kent. Tea?” Apparently taking Kon’s grunt as affirmation she busied herself pouring an extra cup. 

Kon accepted it cautiously, and sat up to drink. “What I wouldn’t give for coffee.” He frowned as he realised that Drake was already dressed in his morning suit, his jacket folded over his chair and his tie loose around his neck, waiting to be tied. From the looks of things, he’d just finished shaving. “You’re an invalid. What are you doing up at this hour?”

“The last time I checked, ten was generally considered an acceptable hour for society,” Drake said. “Although Beth has been awake since nine, and I myself have been reading since seven.”

“I cannot wait to go hunting the vampyre,” Miss Drake explained. “Aren’t you looking forward to it, Mr Kent?” She was wearing a day dress with a dressing gown about her shoulders. 

Kon was acutely aware that his nightshirt was the only clothing he wore. “Isn’t it a little early for female company?” He hinted delicately, making sure he had blankets to spare. 

Drake put down his tea cup. “Let Mr Kent ready himself for the day, Beth. I’ll call for you when we go downstairs.”

“I can’t go. You have to tie me up.”

Kon blinked. He’d heard Europeans were rather more open in their approach to some things, but this beat all. “I beg your pardon?”

Miss Drake gave Kon a wondering glance, clearly bemused by his ignorance. “My corset,” she explained. “It’s difficult to do myself.”

“Isn’t there a ladies maid to handle such things?” Drake asked. “An estate this size--”

“She was eaten a month ago by the vampyre,” Miss Drake explained carelessly. “I told the butler I could make do without.”

“Ah. Quite.” Drake reflected a moment. “Mr Kent, could we trouble you a moment to turn aside --”

“Of course.” Kon put his cup of tea down, and rolled onto his other side to regard the wall. He heard the soft rustle of fabric as Miss Drake stepped out of her dress and reminded himself that she had absolutely no figure to speak of. 

“On the bed I think,” Drake said decisively. “Well, you don’t expect me to do it standing do you? Think of my foot.”

Further rustling and the squeaking of bed springs followed. Kon shut his eyes and tried to will himself back to sleep.

Miss Drake’s soft gasp made that very difficult. “Do you have to sit there?”

“It’s easier.” Drake said cuttingly. “Stop squirming. How tight do you want it?”

Kon’s acute hearing identified the sharp tug of fabric. 

“Not that tight -- ah!”

“Stay still. Breathe.”

“I’d like to -- ooh!”

Kon swallowed. 

The springs on the other bed shifted energetically and noisily as the struggle continued. Try as he might to ignore them, Kon was acutely aware of every gasp Miss Drake uttered, of each occasional moan, and the rare exclamation from Drake. He could no more block out Miss Drake’s impassioned outbursts. 

“Please, have mercy, you villain --ah! not that tight -- Tim!” She gasped furiously for breath. “You’re enjoying this you b------, I bet-- I’d like to see you in a corset -- no, not that --”

Drake in a corset was a sufficiently scary mental image that Kon blanched. By the time he’d recovered his self-composure, Miss Drake had finished being laced up, and was catching her breath in short rapid gasps. 

“Cruel, cruel, cruel,” she repeated between each gasp. 

“Don’t be unkind,” Drake reprimanded her. “You know I do it for your good.” There was a soft shuffling sound which Kon took to be fingers slipping through hair, and then Drake continued. “You’re grateful, really. You know you are. Come on, kiss me and let’s be friends again.”

Drake’s concern for his sister was nothing short of remarkable. Kon knew few siblings in his acquaintance so affectionate. He listened to Miss Drake pull her dress back on, her brother helping do up the buttons.

“There, Beth. You’re all set -- you may turn around safely, Mr Kent.”

Kon just had time to see Miss Drake, cheeks red from her obvious exertion, disappear out the door as he sat up. “Does your sister curse like that every　time she has her corset done up?”

Drake smirked, nimbly tying his necktie. “Always.”

“Gad,” said Kon. “I had no idea women suffered so much for fashion.”

It wasn’t until he’d dressed and they, Drake on crutches, were collecting Miss Drake for breakfast, that Kon remembered the ghost.

“I don’t see any spectres,” he said, looking curiously into Miss Drake’s apartment. It was furnished in the same old fashioned style as the rest of the castle, as ordinary as it could be. 

“She’s rather shy for a ghost,” Miss Drake said, leaning on Kon’s arm since her brother’s hands were full with his crutches. “I gave her a huge fright when I screamed at her, but I apologised. I think we’re going to be good friends.”

Kon looked over to see how Drake, the pronounced sceptic, was taking this. “Did you make the acquaintance of the ghost, Mr Drake?”

“Rather hard to meet a figment of my lovely sister’s imagination,” Drake said smoothly. “Beth had imaginary friends when she was a girl, too.”

“But Luthor’s account collaborated -“

“I make it my practice, Mr Kent,” Drake said firmly. “To trust nothing that I have not seen with my own eyes -“

“And sometimes not even then.”

“You’re in a fine mood this morning,” Drake noted, addressing his sister as they approached the drawing room where late breakfast was laid out. “I hope you’ll mind your manners for Luthor and his guests.”

“I have done this before you know,” his sister replied with asperity. Kon had the impression of an argument of long-standing. “Shall we go in?”

As it happened all Luthor’s guests were waiting to make their acquaintance, having heard of their rather exciting journey and arrival from their host. Much bowing and exchanging of handshakes took place before the three newcomers could sit at the table, and it was with relief that Kon caught his breath and looked around. 

Slade was a ruggedly handsome man of mature years, his hair and beard a silvery grey, yet still retaining an active and rigorous constitution. He spoke closely with Luthor on the subject of the vampire, and proved himself to be, not only a knowledgeable hunter, but also a learned scholar in matters of the supernatural. 

“It is good to have such fine additions to our party,” he said. “Kent, Drake, surely I can count on the aid of such fine young men in trapping this foul beast?”

“Of course, I’m happy to do all I can,” Kon said, glancing towards the Drakes. “But Mr Drake is injured-“

Drake nodded. “Hopefully my ankle will heal quickly,” he said. “Until such time, my sister shall have to represent our party.”

“Surely you don’t mean we take this slip of a girl with us?” Pratt said, then seemed to blanch as he realised everyone was now regarding him. He was a giant of a man, towering over the rest of the group, but looking extremely uncomfortable in an ill-fitting suit. He looked as though he could snap one of Miss Drake’s arms as easily as one might snap a twig, but his demeanor at the breakfast table was awkward in the extreme. “I mean to say, she is rather tiny. To a beast like our vampire, she’s a snack -“

“Which is why I must accompany you,” Miss Drake said immediately. “The vampire will take one look at you, Mr Pratt, and decide he is safer in his grave. Although -“ She frowned. “I fancy I have misheard you. Did you say, Mr Wilson, that you intended to trap the abominable thing?”

“He did,” Luthor smiled. “At my direction. It is my purpose to make a study of the creature. It is for that reason that I invited Mrs Waller and Mr Teth to complete this party.”

Mrs Waller’s inclusion as a well-known biologist was not so surprising, but Kon wondered what Mr Teth brought the party. He was a dark-skinned man, who had introduced himself as an Egyptian, and styled himself an expert on the unknowable. Luthor had called him a mystic, Kon was inclined to think him a quack. 

“This thing has killed!” Miss Drake protested, drawing Kon’s attention back to the conversation at hand. “You would let it live?”

“A wolf will kill to live, to feed its family,” Mr Teth noted. “It is his nature. He cannot help it, and he cannot fight his nature. No more can the vampire -“

“Or so we believe,” Luthor said. “The only way to be sure of any of this is to catch it, of course.”

“And when you’ve caught it?” Drake asked and his tone was sharp as nails. “What then?”

“What then?” Luthor repeated. “Why, only what man has striven for since he first became aware of the limits of his meagre existence. A vampire lives forever -- why the benefits to science, to medicine alone -- but. I get ahead of myself. We do not even know if such a thing as a vampyre exists.” He said this with a polite nod towards Drake, but Kon had the impression that the gesture was only meant to humour his guest, and that Luthor had already made up his mind on that point.

“Please think seriously of what you are suggesting!” Miss Drake said fervently. “I can’t help but feel to capture such a creature, to expose yourselves to its power is to make a grave mistake. There may be consequences beyond your imagining -- and to expose others to it, entirely unwitting -- such a thing has been done to disastrous consequences --” 

“You speak of the Alan-case? A most unfortunate study,” Luthor remarked. 

“The Alan case? You’ll forgive me asking but I don’t know the incident of which you speak,” Slade said idly. 

“I’d be surprised if you did. It’s an old story, very few records still exist of it now.” Luthor paused thoughtfully. “I’m surprised an amateur such as Miss Drake would know of it.”

Miss Drake smiled tightly. Her face had almost completely drained of colour. “I’m not sure how I heard of it,” she said. “It must have been from one of my brother’s colleagues at the Institute.”

“At any rate, the tale begins long ago, in what we now call the Ukraine where a lord by the name of Thawne, I believe it was, took advantage of a nearby villages outbreak of vampyrism to secure a specimen for himself. With the rough tools of his time, he experimented, and deduced that being a thing of death, the vampyre could not grant him eternal life -- for such was Lord Thawne’s goal -- but that the blood of a living vampyre might. To test his theory he had a pregnant woman kidnapped, that he might see if the effects of the vampyre were inherited. News of this got out and his subjects, appalled at his cruelty and sacriligeous behavior stormed the castle. The woman was freed and restored to her family, the lord forced to flee and the vampyre killed.”

Kon nodded. Up here, in the forgotten castles and countryside of old Europe, he could easily picture such a circumstance. “But that wasn’t the end of the story?”

“Far from it. Time passed, and the Lord established himself in a distant holding. Eventually news reached him that a new outbreak of vampiric activity had broken out in his former province, and he bestirred himself to make enquiries. Eventually he learnt that the cause was believed to be the death of the woman whom he had used in his unholy experiment and whom had died a few months earlier.”

“Ah,” said Teth with every evidence of satisfaction. “I thought as much.”

“The body had been destroyed as was the custom of those peasants when they face a suspected vampyre and yeilded no useful clues. Thawne learnt that before her death, she had given birth to the twins she carried. One was now a healthy boy, active with no visible perculiarities or defects. The lord spied on the child for some time, and apart from a quickness of reflex that distinguished him from his fellows, he saw nothing to suspect there was anything effect from the vampyre upon the boy. His twin, however, had been still-born and it was to this that the lord now turned his attention.”

Kon felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise. “Surely he didn’t --”

“At great risk to himself, the Lord stole into the churchyard of this town and dug up the grave of the child. The corpse was found to be fresh in appearance and even to have grown some. The lord had it smuggled to his new residence where further experiments were carried out.” Luthor paused for effect. “It was discovered that splashing the corpse with the blood of animals restored animation to it.”

“Naturally,” Drake said. “The same theme occurs in numerous East-European fairy stories, though I’m surprised to find such a learned gentleman as yourself repeating such a story to so cultured an audience.”

Luthor laughed. “Very well, Drake. First I shall finish the fairy tale, then I shall give you the history. Shall I continue?”

“By all means.”

“Lord Thawne discovered that the vampyre child grew rapidly fed on animal flesh, and had notions of training it. Apparently he had begun feeding it his own blood, attempting to create a dependency.”

“What happened?” Mrs Waller asked. Her portly features displayed a mixture of abhorence and curiousity. 

Luthor smiled and spread his hands. “It is conjectured that the creature developed a taste for human blood and finished him off one night, and fled. Nothing more is known of what became of the creature.”

“Fitting end to the bedtime story,” Drake noted. “The villain foiled by his own device.”

“But that’s not the end,” Luthor said. “Over the next centuries several vampyric activites were linked to the deaths of the descendants of the Alan family, the children of the boy born from that unfortunate peasant woman. The family was chased out of several villages, eventually settling in Normandy and later England. Everywhere they went, sooner or later, vampyres followed. It’s documented by several different historians, entirely ignorant of the history of the Alan family -- or Allen as they became known.”

“The descendants of this family carry the traits of vampyrism?” It made sense. Kon glanced at the faces of his companions, trying to gauge their reactions to the tale. Drake looked politely bored, Pratt unhappy, but the others seemed to listen with professional interest. 

“They are living vampyres,” Luthor said. “They possess certain traits of the vampyre, the preternatural strengths and senses and it is believed that they can live to a lifespan far beyond mortal years if accident is avoided. They go about in sunshine, and appear in all respects as ordinary men. But some marks do exist in those who carry the taint, and others of their own kind recognise them.” 

“They exist even today?”

“Yes, although the research I’ve done into the family tree indicates it is a dying branch. Accident and the tendency for deceased members of the family to return to prey upon their kin means that their numbers are small. As a matter of fact, my research was only able to turn up four members of the family -- and the most promising, a man going by the alias of Crandall, died in Vienna only a few months ago.”

Drake had nerves of steel. Kon wouldn’t even have noticed his shock had the Englishman not been handing him the plate of toast just then. His knuckles whitened around the plate, and his hand shook, but there was no unsteadiness in his voice as he replied. “That is most unfortunate.” He set the plate down, glancing towards his sister. 

Luthor also watched Miss Drake closely. “My dear Miss Drake, you’ve gone very quiet. I hope that our topic of conversation has not pained you in any way?”

Miss Drake glanced up with every appearance of surprise. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I wasn’t paying attention.”

It seemed to Kon that Luthor had expected a different reaction and was chagrined to have not received it. “I beg your pardon,” he said. “I did not intend to bore you. Perhaps I could suggest a turn about the castle for our new arrivals for a change of pace?”


	6. Making friends Drake-style

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kon's intentions are questioned.

Luthor’s suggestion of a tour of his castle was fixed upon agreeably, and they set out at once minus Mrs Waller who preferred not to undertake strenuous activity immediately after a meal, and Mr Teth who remained behind to keep her company. Mr Pratt might as well have been absent; he followed along at the rear of the group, hardly speaking. Drake, despite advice to rest his foot, insisted on keeping pace with his sister and seeing the castle and Kon stayed close by his side, willing to assist him if he ran into difficulties. 

As it happened, the biggest difficult was getting the party out of the library. 

“The Life Of Apollonius!” said Drake. “In the original Greek -- you don’t see this everyday.”

His sister was rapturous in her praise of Luthor’s collection of novels. “Clarimonde, The Pale Lady -- oh, I could sit here for hours!”

Even Kon found something to excite his attention. 

“Known Demons and their Likenesses?” Luthor raised an eyebrow at Kon. “That’s an unusual choice.”

“What with the witch trials and all, no copies of this book remain in the States,” Kon explained. “Or at least, none known to me.”

Only by promising that they might return to the library as often as they pleased did Luthor induce them to leave at all. Kon found the rest of the Castle a pleasant enough diversion, though he might have wished that his first castle had been in better repair. Cadmus Castle featured three parapets, one of which had crumbled into disrepair. 

“It is on account of the damage that I was able to procure the place so cheaply,” Luthor explained as they stood in the courtyard outside, Mr Pratt rescuing Miss Drake from the piece of wall upon which she’d climbed to get a better view. “The family abandoned in three decades ago, and on account of its remote location it has stood empty until I took possession of it.”

“Rather a curious choice, I’d have thought,” Drake remarked. “Being so remote and isolated.”

“With the work I do, isolation is preferable. Should we procure a vampyre, we must do our utmost to ensure that no lives are placed in danger by its presence.”

Miss Drake joined the conversation, cheeks flushed with activity. “Does the castle have a history of misfortune and calamity?”

Luthor smiled charmingly. “My dear child, when buying a castle in these parts, an unfortunate history is a given. Let us continue to the portrait gallery.”

Rows and rows of stiff, sober paintings hung on the walls of this thin, oak lined room. Kon wiped the dust from the label of the nearest to read the inscription. “William Harm?” he said. “What an unfortunate choice of name.”

“Meaning his nickname would be Will – ah!” Miss Drake snickered, pleased by Kon’s observation. “Look, here’s my ghost!” she said, pausing in front of the portrait of a young woman, wearing the formal clothes of an earlier generation. “Greta – I can see why she’d want to keep that a secret.”

By the time the tour was concluded it was time for luncheon. Being a fine, sunny day, the repast was served in the outer courtyard, where the crumbling wall afforded a beautiful view of the forest and the farmland beyond. 

Slade played the gallant gentleman, fetching the ladies' parasols and seeing that both Mrs Waller and Miss Drake were comfortably situated. “It wouldn’t do for either of our fair companions to take ill,” he said, settling a blanket about Mrs Waller. 

Kon wondered that he could lie so bold-facedly. Miss Drake might be mistaken for a fair creature at a distance and in poor light, but Mrs Waller had no hope of the title. She was a thickly built, mannish woman, with ponderous limbs and a permanent sneer on her face. She resembled nothing so much as a walrus in a corset. 

“I notice that Miss Drake is still in her morning dress,” she said, a faint sneer in her voice as she smoothed down the lace trimmed folds of her dinner jacket. “Such economy of dress is unusual in a young woman.”

“You praise my sister unjustly,” Drake said, although Kon could have sworn that wasn’t intended as a compliment. “As it happens we were compelled to leave the greater part of our luggage in the village and it has not yet been returned to us.”

“Is that so?” Luthor said. “I’ll have my servants get onto that. In the meantime, perhaps I could offer Miss Drake the use of some garments left in storage by the former occupants?”

“Thanks very much for the offer,” Miss Drake said. “But I’m quite able to make do until our trunks arrive.”

“If you’re sure,” Luthor said. “Although, we will need you dressed up if you’re to lure our vampyre to us. In fact –“ He smiled. “In fact, I may have just the garment for that purpose.”

Kon was alarmed by the calm with which everyone took these preparations. Miss Drake might have nerve, but the thought of so casually risking her life made him distinctly uncomfortable. He moved closer to Drake that he might speak to him without being overheard. 

“I know you don’t take these vampire claims seriously,” Kon urged him, voice low. “But consider for a moment the fact that young women have died. Please, talk with your sister, make sure she understands the risk.”

Drake regarded him coolly. “I assure you, Mr Kent, that my sister is well able to meet this challenge, and does so with my permission and approval. If Beth does not face this madman, some other less able girl will.”

Kon did not fancy his chances of persuading Drake otherwise and determined to talk to his sister at the earliest given opportunity. 

“My dear Mr Kent, over here if you will.” Luthor waved him over to the long table where a buffet lunch had been laid out. “I left instructions for a special dish to be prepared for you. You see? We did not forget you were vegetarian.”

“Are you? How curious.” Drake remarked. Kon should have known better to think that anything might take place without his notice.

“It is the current fad,” Mrs Waller explained wearily. “I don’t encourage it.”

Kon filled his plate with a bow towards Luthor. “Your kindess is overwhelming,” he said, before hastily making his escape to take a chair beside Miss Drake. Since her brother was injured, Kon assumed responsibility for the demonstrations of care and concern necessary to a young lady. “May I fetch you anything?”

Miss Drake beamed at him, giving every evidence of enjoying herself. “I am quite fine, Mr Kent. Don’t trouble yourself on my account.” She poked him in the ribs with the tip of her umbrella. “Tell me about vegetarianism.”

By the time Kon had answered all Miss Drake’s questions to her satisfaction, the luncheon conversation had turned to the topic on everyone’s mind. Trapping the vampyre.

Suggestions of making a journey to the chapel and graveyard from which the vampyre was supposed to secrete himself were rejected. 

“We must assume our prey is a beast of cunning and limited reason,” Slade said. “So obvious a trap will yield nothing.”

“But there is no reason to suppose the vampyre will approach the castle,” Mrs Waller said. “After all, I’ve been here a week without the vampyre showing itself.”

Silence reigned for a few minutes as the company mutely pondered how to politely word a comparison between Miss Drake and Mrs Waller’s varying proportions.

“Nonetheless,” Luthor said firmly. “I suggest that we promenade Miss Drake about the countryside at twilight, and after dinner, lay our trap.”

Miss Drake accepted this suggestion equably; Kon had doubts. 

“Miss Drake,” he said, in low tones. “Please forgive my forwardness, but I must speak freely. I can’t help but feel that you’re risking yourself too lightly.”

Miss Drake stared at him. “You mean that,” she said, startled. “You’re worried about me?”

“I can’t help but think how sad and afraid those villagers we saw yesterday were,” Kon said. “Whatever danger is here, its real. No one would think the lesser of you if you—“

“Dear Mr Kent! You are sweet. But you forget – if we don’t stop the vampyre, those people shall still be unhappy. And you saw my handiwork with a gun last night.”

“That’s true. All the same – I’ll keep a close watch over you tonight.”

“Beth, it’s not fair of you to monopolise Mr Kent’s conversation. Come over by me,” Drake interrupted their discussion. Miss Drake gave Kon an apologetic smile as she obeyed her brother. “Until later, Mr Kent.”

It seemed to Kon that Drake kept a close watch on him the rest of the day. He didn’t have another occasion to speak to Miss Drake alone all afternoon, and he ended up watching with misgivings from the drawing room window as Luthor’s servants prepared the open trap. 

Miss Drake and her brother did not share Kon’s apprehension, and the appearance of the carriage only caused them to speculate on why the luggage left at the village had not yet arrived. 

“Here is the garment I spoke of,” Luthor announced, entering the room with a bundle of rich red velvet in his hands. “Miss Drake, will you do me the honour of wearing it?” He bowed as he gave her the dress.

Miss Drake held it up doubtfully. It was a deep crimson, almost the colour of blood, and cut in a style that had been fashionable some decades hence. “It’s beautiful – but it’s a gown. I couldn’t – it must have cost a fortune—“

Luthor waved these concerns aside. “I must insist,” he said. 

Drake gave his consent in a quiet nod. “Indulge Herr Luthor, Beth. It would be rude in the extreme to refuse such kindness.”

Miss Drake glanced at him, startled, and then gave a quick curtsy. “If you gentlemen will excuse me,” she said, making an exit. 

Kon rather fancied that she was unhappy with the situation. 

Drake tapped his shoulder. “Could I trouble you a moment, Kent?”

“Certainly,” Kon followed Drake to the corner by the window, waiting patiently as the Englishman maneuvered his crutches so that he could rest comfortably. “What’s the matter?”

Drake paused thoughtfully before replying, choosing his words with deliberate care. “You’ve been paying rather a lot of attention to my sister.”

“Well naturally,” Kon shrugged. “Your company none withstanding, it must be difficult to be the only young woman present.”

Drake didn’t smile. “What are your intentions regarding my sister?”

“Intentions? I – oh.” Kon blushed furiously. “I beg your pardon, I had no idea my behavior could be construed in such a light.”

Drake regarded him closely. “You do not intend . . . ?”

Kon shook his head. “I admire your sister, and enjoy her company,” he said. “But I do not consider her in a matrimonial light. If I have offended you, or given the lady cause to hope I apologise, but I –“

Drake held up a hand. “No need. I can assure you that my sister does not view you in any light other than a friend,” he said firmly. “I did wonder about your motivations, but now that I am assured by you that you do not intend anything serious, I shall only warn you that the standards of decorum for contact between a man and a woman are perhaps more rigid than you are used to, and that even in such an isolated locale such as this, rumour has a way of getting out . . .”

Kon flushed. “I appreciate the warning,” he said. “I trust it will be unnecessary.”

“Good.” Drake paused then added, “Having raised the subject, I will now ask you to forget it. Before I do, however, I would like to stress that not only does my sister come into no monetary gain on her marriage, but that I have never made the acquaintance of anyone so spectacularly ill-suited for matrimony, or indeed any aspect of domestic life.”

“Fine thing to say about your sister,” Kon said, a little stunned by this unasked for revelation.

Drake smiled thinly. “I am a realist,” he said. “Moreover, I am not one to shirk an unpleasant duty. There are times one must be cruel to be kind. I can only repeat that I can think of no greater disaster that could befall you than an attachment to my sister.”

“I respect your judgement implicitly,” Kon replied. “But to be frank, I can think of no greater detriment to matrimony than to have you as a brother in law.”

Drake laughed. “Well said! You know, Kent, I’m beginning to like you.” He grasped Kon’s hand firmly. “You may call me Tim.”

“Honoured,” Kon replied, wondering what the h--- had just happened.


	7. Poor Kon.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Beth wears the dress chosen by Luthor, the vampyre reveals himself and Drake demonstrates that all is not what it seems.

“My dear.” Luthor’s voice held a note of supreme satisfaction, and Kon looked up to see what had caused him such evident pleasure. “The dress is perfect, is it not?”

Kon could only stare in mute agreement. 

The gown was low necked and open, with a gathered waist and full skirts. The contrast to her usual style of dress was so great that the sight of Miss Drake’s bare shoulders was shocking, almost scandalous. The single ribbon she wore at her throat had the express purpose of drawing attention to her bare skin, and her parasol and a pair of white gloves completed the ensemble. 

Miss Drake smiled tightly, overwhelmed by the attention and hastily made her way to her brother’s side. “Tim?”

“Come here.” Drake tugged the front of the dress straight and smoothed down the sides, letting his hands rest a second around her waist. “You look superb,” he asid and for a second Miss Drake blushed as red as the dress. “Our vampyre will not be able to resist you.” He ran his fingers through her hair, gathering it up in a loose bun. “I think you should tie your hair up to complete the effect. Don’t you agree, Conner?”

Kon swallowed. 

Gathering Miss Drake’s hair up only left her neck that much more exposed and the contrast between her skin, healthily tanned by the sun, and the blood red velvet was that much more extreme. She looked absurdly young, and Kon wished very much that he could tear the dress off her, call the whole adventure off. “You look like fitting bait for a vampire,” he said and the soft pleased blush of Miss Drake’s cheeks faded a little. 

“Our friend Conner is concerned for your safety,” Drake -- it was so hard to think of him as Tim -- said, resting his arm about his sister in an effort to reassure her. 

Miss Drake smiled at him, apparently taking her brother’s words as permission to assume greater intimacy with Kon. “I’ll be quite all right, Conner. Mr Wilson will be riding with me, and Mr Pratt will be our driver.”

“All the same, I would feel easier if I knew you were armed.”

Drake smiled at Kon. “Got your pistol, Beth?”

“Yes.” Miss Drake patted the front of her dress. “It’s in my bosom.”

Kon stared. 

Drake bit his lip. “Beth,” he said pleasantly. “Do you think I could see the pistol a moment?”

“Why?”

“Humour me, would you?”

“If you insist.” Miss Drake proceeded to dig around the front of her dress.

It occurred to Kon that it would be polite to stop staring but somehow he couldn’t look away. He watched in mute astonishment as Miss Drake removed the pistol. 

“Thank you,” Drake said taking it. After a second’s inspection, he slipped a clasp with a short metallic click. “If you’re going to secrete a gun on your person,” he told her as he returned the pistol. “Then, for all that’s holy, put the safety lock on first.”

“Oh.” Miss Drake went about returning the gun to its hiding place. “That could have been interesting.”

“Quite. Something the matter, Conner?”

Kon shut his mouth with difficulty. “All all Englishmen like you?” he asked. 

“Oh no,” Drake assured him. “Just the Londoners. In the country, the women carry hunting rifles.”

Kon managed a weak smile. He couldn’t be certain that Drake was joking.

“Is Miss Drake ready? Excellent.” Slade bowed to her and offered her his arm. “We’re ready to set out now.”

“You won’t join them?” Kon asked Drake.

“My sister is well capable of taking care of herself,” Drake said. “Mr Pratt and Mr Slade will bring her back before it gets too dark, and I think I shall, instead, rest in preparation for tonight.”

Kon nodded. It made sense but . . . He stood by the window to watch as Miss Drake climbed into the carriage beside Mr Wilson and Mr Pratt gave the horses the signal. They were quickly out of sight. 

With nothing to do but wait for their return, Kon busied himself with preparations for that evening. He cleaned and loaded his own gun, and joined Luthor and Teth in deciding the final arrangements. It was decided that Miss Drake’s bedroom was too far distant from the rest of the household to be a good location for an ambush, and so it was decided that after dinner she would retire to the library, where, with the others lying in wait in secret, she would present as tempting a prospect to the vampire as she could. 

Mrs Waller haughtily refused to take part in the endeavor, claiming it would be a complete waste of time, and Drake immersed himself in book after book. 

Kon could not imagine how anyone could be so cool having just exposed their sister to mortal peril, and wanted to kick him. “How can you stand to be so calm?” he asked him. 

Drake leaned over and squeezed his arm. “In situations like this,” he said. “The only thing I find I can do is assume that everything will go well, but plan as if it won’t.” He shifted so that Kon could see the gun holster beneath his waistcoat. 

Kon was mildly reassured. “And if it is a vampyre? What then?”

Drake looked about to check that they were alone. “Understand that any mention of this will ruin my reputation as a skeptic?” At Kon’s nod, he smiled. “Look behind the chaise longue.”

“Is that crossbow loaded with a stake?”

“Yes, and I’ve a freshly sharpened axe behind the curtain. In case we need to behead anything.” Drake went back to his books. “I disregarded garlic and crucifixes on the grounds that we want to encourage the thing to make an appearance.”

“You’ve thought of everything.” Kon wasn’t sure whether he was relieved or even more concerned at this prospect. 

“I try.”

The carriage containing Miss Drake returned without any incident to speak of, and the party sat down to dinner in high spirits. The ritual of dining thus completed, the party devoted themselves to playing cards until such time as a household might usually be expected to retire. 

Mrs Waller and Miss Drake retired first, one to her bedroom, the other to the library. At a discreet signal from Slade, Drake followed her. The rest of the party took their places at intervals designed to give anyone watching the impression that they left the card table naturally. When Kon took his hiding place in the study adjourning the library, Miss Drake was sitting on the chaise longue before the window, reading, while her brother watched on his seat tucked away behind the curtains. 

Time passed very slowly. 

At first every crackle of the fire made Kon start. As the logs sunk lower, and the shadows more lengthy, it became harder to stay alert. Luthor joining him to watch from the study was a welcome distraction, but unable to hold a conversation above a whisper, things quickly returned to tedium. Luthor read a newspaper, and Kon paced the study, occasionally stealing a glance through the keyhole to assure himself that Miss Drake was all right. 

Eventually, beginning to feel the effects of the late hour, Kon took a seat. His last quick glance had shown him Miss Drake had given up her book and was leaning against the chaise longue, apparently dozing, her neck prettily exposed. He couldn’t see much of Drake beyond his silhouette in the shadow, but he was as unmoving as ever. If he had fallen asleep none would be able to tell. 

Luthor quietly turned the pages of his newspaper, and Kon shut his eyes. 

It didn’t seem a moment later that the voice woke him. “Wake up -- please, you must wake up!”

Kon grumbled, trying to swat the speaker aside but instead his hand encountered something intangible, but so unearthly cold that Kon was wide awake in seconds. “What?”

“He’s here --”

The candle that Luthor had been using to read his paper by had grown low and Kon had just enough light to see the form of their host, slumped over his desk. He snatched up the light quickly, holding it up that he might see the speaker, but the room was empty save for him and Luthor. 

Kon shook him, but the man didn’t stir. “Herr Luthor?” His body lolled limply under Kon’s touch, but his pulse was strong. He slept, but much more deeply than was natural --

With sudden suspicion, Kon opened the library door.

Miss Drake had picked up her book again and was reading avidly, leaning over the chaise longue in a very undignified fashion. So engrossed was she in her story that she had completely failed to notice the dark shadow rapidly taking form behind her. 

The library was wide, and Kon knew he had no hope of reaching Miss Drake before the thing did. “Look out!” he yelled, snatching up the poker from the fire as he ran towards her. 

The creature dived towards her at Kon’s shout, but that was enough warning that all he got was a face full of novella. Miss Drake rolled off the chaise longue in a flurry of skirts and by the time she got to her feet her pistol was in her hand. 

“Tim,” she said and if Kon had time to be amazed at her calm he would have been boggled. “We’re on.”

But as there was no answer from Drake’s corner, some of her confidence waned. 

“Tim?”

The creature sneered. It had gained enough form to be recogniseable. Kon felt his spine pricking cold as he considered how easily he’d poked fun at William Harm that afternoon -- William Harm in the flesh was another prospect altogether. “Your brother won’t be helping you,” he said. “Nor will any of the others waiting outside the door. They are one and all under my spell.”

“What have you done to him?”

Faintly grey lips parted to reveal sharp white teeth in an awful smile. “Nothing that can’t be undone . . . with a little sacrifice on your part of course.”

“Don’t believe him,” Kon said, circling the creature at a wary distance, poker at the ready. “I saw Luthor. I don’t know how he’s done it but they’re sleeping all of them.”

“Of course,” Miss Drake said. “That’s an old trick.” She eyed the vampyre -- for there was nothing else it could be -- with a coolness her brother would have been proud of. “You must be Billy. You’re every bit as loathsome as your sister warned.”

The vampyre smiled. He didn’t seem to stalk so much as glide but he was stalking Miss Drake all the same, moving closer while angling to keep the chaise longue between himself and Kon. “Funny you should mention my loving sister,” he said with cruel smoothness. “You’re wearing the dress she wore when I killed her.”

“I -- what?” 

Miss Drake recoiled, disgusted, giving the vampire the opening he needed. He closed the distance between himself and his intended prey with inhuman speed. Miss Drake fired once, dead into the creature’s chest and it only paused the creature for a second. 

“Bullet made from iron taken from a churchyard. Quaint.” The vampyre grabbed Miss Drake’s arm and twisted it, and she dropped the pistol with a cry of pain. 

Kon ran forward to help, swinging his poker at the creatures chest. It took the blow full on, and only seemed a little stunned. Miss Drake kicked it, managing to free herself, and Kon found himself grappling with the beast. It was strong, stronger than any man had a right to be. Which was fortunate, as this meant Kon didn’t have to worry about holding back. 

It was with great satisfaction that he sent the creature crashing into the wall with enough force, a couple of the portraits came loose and fell. The vampyre was only stunned a minute. Remembering that Luthor intended to trap the monster, Kon threw the poker he carried at it, catching it through the shoulder and pinning it to the wall. It’s cry of rage and pain made him wince. Apparently the vampyre could be hurt --

“Look! It becomes shadow -- it will escape!” Miss Drake cried, apparently unphased by the creature’s noise. She’d found the crossbow hidden behind the chaise longue, and fired the stake it carried directly at the thing’s heart. As she had said, however, the vampyre had assumed shadowy form and melted away before the missile reached it, leaving only a dark cloud and a few shreds of antique fabric. As they watched, helpless to prevent its escape, the cloud headed directly to an ancient tapestry, hanging on the wall, and disappeared. 

“Did it dissolve into nothing?” Kon asked, appalled. Facing a monster that could appear anywhere at anytime --

“Tim! Tim, wake up! Oh, please, Tim--”

Tracking the fiendish creature would have to wait. Kon joined Miss Drake, trying vainly to wake her brother. “Check his pulse,” he advised her. “I’m sure he’s sleeping --”

But Miss Drake had already fixed upon an interesting method of restoring her brother. 

Kon swallowed. 

Close as the siblings were, and knowing the depth of affection Miss Drake held for her brother, the kiss still seemed rather -- Kon wronged them. Miss Drake was clearly distraught, and her emotions had momentarily overwhelmed her --

Excessive or not, the kiss had effect.

“ . . . not now, Bart, I --” Drake stirred slowly, then taking in his sister’s attire, and Kon standing in the background anxiously, he sat straight up, instantly assuming an attitude of control. “The vampyre! Is it --”

“Been and gone,” Miss Drake said, stroking her brother’s cheek. The frank look of adoration she gave him was enough to tell Kon that perilous though their brief encounter with the vampyre had been, all Miss Drake’s care had been for her brother.

“There is a heaviness in my thoughts I can’t shake off . . . a most strange and compelling fatigue.” Drake bestirred himself slowly, gathering his crutches to stand. “Where did it hence?”

“It seemed to vanish as it reached that tapestry there,” Kon pointed.

Drake studied it, resting on his sister’s arm. “Draw it back.”

Kon obeyed. As he swung the heavy fabric back, a small oak door was revealed behind it. “A hidden passage --”

“Greta said as much,” Drake said with satisfaction. “It most probably leads to the vampyre’s hiding place. The others also sleep?” At Kon’s nod, he looked seriously at his sister. “The power to affect so many people and so strongly . . . it is more dangerous than we thought.”

“This doesn’t add up,” Miss Drake agreed. “A few month old vampire should have been fixed by my bullets but it waved the blessing off like it was nothing.”

“I suspect Luthor has not been entirely honest with us,” Drake said. “I rather fancy -- but we waste time. Go after it and see if you can discover its hiding place but do not attempt to subdue it yourselves.”

Miss Drake nodded. “What do we go up against?”

“I suspect an Old One.”

None of this made sense to Kon. “Old Ones, vampires -- I thought you didn’t believe in any of this stuff?”

“My dear, Conner,” Drake said with his usual smile. “You’ll soon learn that in the world of monsters and monster hunting, nothing is what it seems.”

Kon hated when Drake used that tone of voice on him. “Well then, explain why your sister and myself were the only two not affected by the vampire’s spell?” 

Miss Drake stared at him, as Drake answered coolly. “Probably because neither of you are human.”


	8. In which nothing much happens

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which nothing much happens besides tension and a compromising situation.

“I beg your pardon?”

The certainty in Drake’s expression did not flicker even once. “I suspect that the reason that you and my sister were the only ones not affected by the vampyre’s spell is because neither of you are human.”

Kon swallowed. Miss Drake was staring at him from behind her brother, eyes wide not with surprise but with curiousity. Because of the dim light and the late hour, the pupils appeared a rather inhuman shade of yellow. Was she? Surely Drake would know –

Kon shook his head firmly and stepped back. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said too hastily. 

“Don’t you?” Drake studied him a moment longer before breaking eye contact. “At any rate, we’re wasting time. You two should hurry after the vampyre as quickly as you can.”

Miss Drake had retrieved the axe. “Will you come with us?”

Drake motioned to his foot. “I have the distinct impression that traipsing through subterranean passages with an injured foot would be counter to the advice of most medical practioners. I shall rouse the others and organize a back up party to assist you.”

Miss Drake nodded but Kon was alarmed at the arrangement. “That’s it? Not content with using your sister as bait for that monster, you’re sending her after it alone?”

“Not alone,” Drake disagreed. “You’ll be with her.”

Kon folded his arms. “I refuse to put up with any more of this. I’m not setting foot in that tunnel until we have a decent sized party together.”

“In that case I suppose it rests on you, Beth. Are you up to it?”

Beth hefted the axe. “He caught me by surprise. Now that I’m ready, he won’t have the chance again.”

“Spoken like a fighter,” Drake approved, grasping his sister’s shoulder tightly. “Make me proud.” Their gazes met, lingered, and then with no thought for his injury, Drake had stepped forward to pull his sister into a tight embrace. 

Kon hadn’t imagined him being capable of passion at all, let alone something of this magnitude. It was a clasp worthy of the stage and the kiss that followed – Kon found he was staring again and coughed, hastily turning aside. 

When they finally broke apart it was to stare at each other breathlessly. Miss Drake’s lips were parted and her cheeks pink. Drake was as inscrutable as ever but his face softened slightly as he carefully tucked a stray lock of hair that had fallen loose out of his sister’s face.

“I hate to interrupt this family moment,” Kon said. “But I refuse to accompany Miss Drake after the villain.”

“No matter,” Drake said, his eyes still fixed on his sister. “Beth will go alone if need be.”

“What?”

Miss Drake swung the axe over her shoulders. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

“Be careful. You know a vampyre on the run in his den –“

“You speak as though I hadn’t done this before. Mr Kent managed to wound it –“

“Even more reason to be careful.”

“I know.” Miss Drake squeezed his hand, then let it fall, walking over to the hidden door. As Kon watched, she stepped through, following the route of the vampyre.

Kon who had watched this all with considerable astonishment, turned to Tim. “That’s it?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“You’re really going to let her do this? Call her back, now! I demand it!”

Drake watched him coolly. “Beth does not need your permission to act. If you wish her to return you had better accompany her and try to change her mind.” He paused, then added. “You’d best hurry. It seems she forgot to take a light with her.”

It was what he’d been planning from the start. Kon glared, snatching up a lamp. “You’re a calculating wretch without even the scruples of a murderer!”

“You flatter me, but may I suggest catching up my sister? She travels very quickly when she choses.”

Kon resisted the urge to hit him with difficulty. 

When he caught up to Miss Drake, she was attempting to climb a pile of rubble blocking the passage.

“Miss Drake,” Kon urged her. “I know that you value your brother’s opinion highly but—“

“Call me Beth, Conner,” She greeted him cheerfully. “Can you give me a boost?”

With grave misgivings, Kon boosted. “Although your motivations could not be more worthy, I feel strongly that the recklessness of this task—“

“These skirts are impossible! I can do hardly anythIIIEE--”

“Miss Drake!”

At her scream she had fallen out of sight. Kon scrambled up the pile of rubble, to find that part of the floor had given way to a great, gaping hole, apparently into which Miss Drake had vanished. 

“Miss Drake? Beth!” Kon swung the lantern into the hole, hoping to catch sight of her. 

As he watched, she shakily drew herself upright out of a pile of stones and gravel. “Ow – I don’t recommend doing that.”

“Are you hurt?”

“Just bruised. See how the fallen rubble creates a slope?” Beth – it was somehow possible to think of her as Beth in a way that it was just not possible to consider her brother as Tim – limped closer to the hole where Kon watched. “I didn’t fall far but its slippery. I couldn’t regain my feet, and then my skirt caught, making it worse.”

“Can you climb up again?”

Beth attempted to scale the loose rock, but it was to no avail. Somewhere during the fall, the skirt of the red velvet gown had been torn and now it hung low, twisting about her ankles and tripping her as she tried to climb.

“Oh, this is impossible! I’m getting rid of this annoying thing right now!”

There was the sound of more ripping cloth and various rustlings. Kon swallowed.

“Are – are you sure that’s wise?”

“You heard what he said! Greta died in this thing! If that’s not a good reason to get rid of it, I don’t know what is— d----, curse and b---- who ever invented eyelet fastenings!”

The rustling noises faded into silence. 

Kon ventured an enquiry. “Everything all right?”

“I’m stuck.”

“Don’t worry, I’m sure you won’t be left down there long.”

“No, I’m stuck.”

“What do you mean – oh. Um. Can it wait until your brother reaches us?”

“Not really. I kind of got my arm caught and I’m going to need help.”

“Oh.” Kon had a growing sense of inevitability. “I’ll see if I can make my way down to you. One moment –“ He climbed carefully onto the slope of rubble, and almost immediately it gave way at his weight. He slid down, barely managing to keep hold of the lamp. Stumbling to a halt at the bottom, he regained his balance and looked about for Beth. 

She had done a remarkable job of getting herself into difficulties. Kon swallowed.

“Uh – how should we do this?”

“If you unhook me, then I can manage the rest, I think.” Beth turned her back to him.

“Right.” 

She had nice shoulders, and she smelled of gun powder and tea and the late evening air. It wasn’t the most romantic of perfumes, but somehow -- Kon reminded himself that she was not graceful or pretty. “There.”

Beth took great delight in kicking the garment across the room. “Take that, fiend from the darkest depths of tailors h---!” She turned to beam at Kon. “Shall we continue on?”

Kon, staring mutely, shut his mouth. “Shouldn’t we take the dress with us?” he said. “A garment like that is costly –“

“You like it so much, you can find it,” Beth folded her arms. She seemed much happier in the corset and underskirts, and Kon had to admit the increased freedom of movement suited her. Her arms were brown with sun and lightly muscled, and he wondered how she’d come by such unusual features for a young girl.

Kon held up the lantern to search for where the dress had fallen. He spotted the expanse of red sprawled over a rock pile, and climbed over the slippery carpet of rocks to fetch it. “Got it – hey. It appears that there’s a room here.”

“Really?” Beth joined Kon, and before he could protest, had climbed through the gap. “You’re right. There are cellars here.”

“Could the vampyre have come this way?” Kon wondered. 

“Only one way to find out.” Beth took the dress from Kon and placed it where it would be visible from the hole in the passage above. She deftly folded the sleeves out so that the garment formed a rough arrow. “There. Now they’ll know which way to follow us.”

“I suppose.” Kon raised the lantern again and led the way through the hole into the cellars. “How do we know the vampyre even came this way? He could have continued down the tunnel.” 

“He came this way.” Beth said, as the cellar tapered off into a tight, twisting passage.

“You don’t know that.”

“Maybe I do.”

Kon bit his tongue. Continuing a pointless argument with Beth would not only be a waste of time, but it would be ungentlemanly. Instead he just held out his hand to help her up the next difficult climb.

Beth didn’t wait to be helped down again. Free of the hated dress and with the absence of an audience besides Kon, she jumped boldly over obstacles, set such a fast pace that Kon had difficultly keeping up, and brandished her axe at any unexpected noise. “What do you suppose these passages were used for? And why place them under the castle? It all seems very odd.”

“Your brother can puzzle it out for us, when we get back,” Kon said. “Let’s just concentrate on getting out of here.”

“A secret passage below a secret passage. Doesn’t it seem rather excessive to you?” Beth continued. “If I were a evil creature, hell bent on – oh, how odd. Do you suppose this is the door?”

The passage had ended in a series of steps leading up to a flat, stone-ceiling.

“Looks like a trapdoor of some sort,” Kon said, handing the lantern to Miss Drake. “Allow me.” The stone slab was heavy, but not beyond Kon’s capabilities. He pushed it easily aside.

“Are you sure you’re human?” Miss Drake wondered down below. “I don’t think most people could shift that so easily. I know I couldn’t.”

“You’re a girl,” Kon reminded her, climbing through the hole. “Pass the lantern?” 

He lifted the light, scarcely managing to stifle an exclamation at the sight that greeted him. 

“What is it? Conner, are you in distress?” Beth climbed up next to him before Kon regained enough presence of mind to even think of preventing her. “Oh. How terribly cliché.”

“I beg your—“ It occurred to Kon he was becoming repetitive. “Excuse me?”

“You wouldn’t believe how many times I’ve climbed through a secret passage that began or ended in a coffin,” Beth said, climbing into the room. “Even more that have ended in crypts. Let’s see if there’s a suitably humourous inscription, shall we?”

“Uh—“

“I bet it won’t. Billy didn’t strike me as someone with a working sense of humour. Nope, what did I tell you?”

“Beth!” Kon whispered urgently. “If this is a crypt, don’t you think it likely our friend will be nearby?”

“So what are you hanging around down there for? Let’s find him.”

“I don’t think that’s wise,” Kon repeated. “Your brother said not to . . . Come on –“ Beth passed close by the coffin and Kon made a grab for her. 

Either anxiety made Kon underestimate his strength, or Beth was a lighter weight than she looked. Regardless of the cause, Kon’s attempt at drawing her out of danger had the unhappy consequence of sending them both tumbling down the stairs. 

Kon took the full force of the fall, landing on his back. “Ow . . .”

Beth landed against his chest. “That hurt! What did you go and do that for?” she complained, picking herself up. 

“Your brother said we shouldn’t attempt to subdue it—“ Kon also sat up dazedly. 

Beth was sprawled half in and half out of his lap, and his attempt to sit only brought them close enough that they knocked foreheads. They had a few moments in which to stare at each other, the belated realisation of the impropriety of their situation catching up to them, and then a throat cleared in the darkness behind them. 

“I do hope,” said Slade dryly, “that we’re not interrupting anything.”


	9. In which a proposal is proposed and nothing involving vampires occurs at all.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> See chapter title!

Kon awoke on the chaise longue in the library to some surprise. He sat up sleepily, wondering what had happened to his bed, until his eyes lit upon the fallen portraits propped up against the wall and he remembered in a rush. The vampire -- 

Vampyre, Kon corrected himself mentally, then swore. The Drakes were a bad influence on him.

Of course, thinking about the Drakes brought back the disastrous consequences of the previous night, and Kon buried his face in his hands. How had he been so stupid? Spending any amount of time with a barely clothed woman, no matter how honourable or urgent the circumstances, was bound to lead to rumour . . . He could only hope that Miss Drake remained innocent of the consequences of their misadventure. She’d run back down the passage towards the castle at Slade, Pratt, Luthor and Teth’s appearance -- impressively fast actually -- which meant that she’d avoided the ribbing Kon had received for their rather dishevelled appearance. 

Kon had explained, and they’d cautiously explored the crypt but failed to find any sign of the vampyre. By the time it had been decided to call it a night and return in the morning, Miss Drake had apparently retired for the evening. As she had undoubtedly informed her brother of the event, Kon thought it prudent to avoid Drake, hence making his bed on the chaise longue in the library. 

In the mid-morning light the precariousness of the situation was hard to ignore. Kon stared at the panelled ceiling of the library, turning over circumstances in his head. He could see only one honourable line of conduct to preserve Miss Drake’s reputation -- 

He thought wistfully of the stylish blonde classicist who sometimes joined their classes on Ancient Superstition and sighed. It was no good dwelling on what was not to be. Kon had been raised to do the right thing, and he would do it, no matter the personal sacrifice.

Steeling himself, Kon knocked on the door to his bedroom. 

Drake opened the door, looking as dissolute as Kon had ever seen him. That is to say that though Drake was fully dressed as he always was, in waistcoat, shirt and trousers, his cuffs were undone, his tie loose around his neck and his hair did not appear to have been tended to. He raised an eyebrow at Kon. “I was wondering when you’d turn up.”

“I must speak with you on a matter of grave importance, pertaining to your sister,” Kon said, his concern making him abrupt.

“That won’t be necessary,” Drake said leaning back in the doorway. “Beth told me everything when she returned last night. I trust her word implicitly, and I’ve seen enough of you to know that your conduct could only have been gentlemanly.”

Kon flushed. Such praise only made it harder. “Even so, I must insist --”

“If you’re going to insist, then I suggest we take this conversation into the hallway. Beth is sleeping still and I would so hate to wake her.”

Kon stared over Drake’s shoulder, noticing for the first time the slight form wrapped in Drake’s sheets. Asleep, she looked peaceful and content, and Kon who had thought that there was no way he could feel worse about the entire situation, discovered himself to be mistaken. “Why --”

“You don’t expect me to leave her to sleep alone, knowing that there is a vampyre threatening her?” Drake asked, shutting the door firmly behind him. “I am not half the monster you make me out to be.”

He stressed ‘monster’ ever so slightly and Kon changed the subject quickly, before Drake could resume investigation of Kon’s origins. “Mr Drake, it is difficult for me to say this but . . . although nothing untoward occurred between me and your sister last night, you’re probably aware of the damage such an incident will have on her reputation and with that in mind, I would ask your permission to marry her.”

Drake stared. “Marry Beth?”

“I fancy that I’m not too unwelcome a prospect,” Kon said miserably. “I have a generous subsistence from my college, and the understanding that I will inherit a share of my parent’s property -- we are farmers in Kansas. I’m in good health and of good character and --”

“Impossible,” Drake said flatly. “Impossible and unnecessary. Mr Kent, do us the service of never bringing up this subject again.”

Kon had expected reluctance, the sorrow of losing a treasured sibling to marriage, even hoped for gratitude and understanding but such stern refusal -- he had not expected that. “Surely you see that this is the only way her modesty might be preserved? Think of your sister --”

“I am thinking of my sister,” Drake returned coolly. “If you’ll remember our previous discussion on the subject, I told you then what I thought of my sister’s marriageble prospects.”

“But the situation has changed. Her reputation --”

“Believe me, Mr Kent. Although I have the utmost respect for you, it would take a far greater mishap that this to induce me to encourage Beth to be your wife.”

It was clearly no good arguing with him. “Is that your final word on the matter?”

“It is.”

“Then I must bid you good day. I have one request however.”

“Speak.”

“I would humbly beg that you do not mention this conversation to your sister, or your own views upon the subject unless she requests your opinion. I want to put the situation to her on its own grounds.”

“Knowing of my disapproval of the intended union, you will ask her anyway?”

Kon nodded. “It’s only right,” he protested. “It is Beth’s reputation and happiness at stake.”

“You have a point.”

For the first time, Kon felt hope. “Do I have your word you will not attempt to influence her?”

Drake’s reply was disconcerting. “Why not? I could do with a laugh.”

Kon retreated to the library to mull over this unexpected turn of events. Drake had the good sense to know that the incident would only have a detrimental affect on his sister’s marriage prospects, indeed, it might be enough to render any marriage impossible. Yet for him to be willing to risk such a disaster -- 

Perhaps he was doing Miss Drake more of a service with his offer than he realised?

It was perhaps an hour later that Miss Drake was escorted into the library by her brother. She wore the morning-dress of the day before, their luggage still not having arrived, and seemed to have escaped any ill effects of the previous night. 

She greeted Kon cheerfully. “Tim said that before he talked to us about our next plan that you wanted to speak to me?”

“Ah -- quite,” Kon looked at Drake wondering how to proceed.

Drake quirked an eyebrow at him. “Shall I leave you two alone? Very well, I shall be over by the window in case you need me.”

How to do this? Beth was regarding him with frank curiousity, and absolutely no inclination she knew what Kon intended. “Let’s go over to the corner there.”

Out of Drake’s hearing, they had some semblance of privacy at least. Kon took Beth’s hand.

“Miss Drake,” he said. “I -- I’ve come to admire you during the course of our short acquaintance --”

She beamed at him. “That’s very sweet of you, Conner. For my part, I’ve come to regard you as a brother.”

“Ha ha ha,” said Kon, who remembered only too vividly her demonstrations of affection for her brother. “Um. Well . . .”

“Yes?” 

“About last night,” Kon said. “I want you to know that I --”

“Oh!” Colour flashed into Beth’s cheeks. “I see.”

“You do?”

“Yes! I mean, obviously it was an accident but I’m not going to think less of you because of it.” Beth smiled at him. “Are we friends again?”

“That’s not it exactly --” Kon decided there was only one way to do this. “Miss Drake, will you do me the honour of becoming my wife?”

She stared at him. 

Kon took the opportunity to take her other hand and draw her closer to him. “I’m not wealthy,” he said. “And I’m not as smart as your brother, but I’ll take care of you,” he said earnestly. “And you’d like Carnegie, they’ve got a good library --”

“You really want me to --” Beth’s look of complete astonishment had faded into a pleased blush. “Conner, I -- I hardly know what to say--”

Kon brushed her hair out of her eyes. She really was much prettier when she wasn’t cursing or shooting things. “You don’t have to thank me. I mean, it’s the gentlemanly thing to do, being that its as much my fault your reputation was sullied as yours --”

Beth stared at him. “You mean -- you don’t love me --”

“I’ve only known you a few days, but I’m already certain I shall never forget you.” Not even if Kon tried. “And they say friendship’s as important a base for a marriage as romance,” Kon offered. “I do like you. I -- well, I’ve never met a woman who could shoot like you and the way you faced down the vampyre -- I’m sure you’ll be an enormous help with my studies. Professor White never gives extensions but I bet if you asked --” 

Beth did not look impressed. In fact, her expression was slowly becoming mutinous.

“And I’m sure that in time this feeling will grow and even if it doesn’t we’re both reasonable people with common interests --” Kon added.

Beth made a move to tug away. “You can take your common interests and shove them --”

“Beth!” Tim interrupted. “That is not ladylike language --”

Kon should have known better than to expect a private conversation. “Excuse me, but I am discussing matters of some import with the lady --”

“No you are not!” When tugging away didn’t work, Beth kicked him in the shins. “This discussion is over!”

Kon was surprised enough that he let go. “What are you saying? Surely, you see -- your reputation--”

What Beth had to say about her reputation did not bear repeating in print. 

“I did warn you,” Drake said smugly. “You assume, Mr Kent, that my sister has a reputation worth keeping --”

“Oh, you can’t speak.” Beth turned on her brother furiously. “If I know you, you’re enjoying this!”

Drake held his hands up in what was intended to be a concilitary gesture. “My dear! I’m wounded --”

“No,” Beth said, punctuating this sentence by kicking him in the shin in a very unladylike manner. “Now you’re wounded.” And fully indifferent to the fact that her brother was now doubled up in pain, she bowed curtly to Kon. “I don’t want to talk to either of you again, ever,” she said. “Good day.”

Kon was left wondering what happened. “She rejected me?”

“I think we’ve both been rejected,” Drake said, nursing his leg.

“Oh,” said Kon, still bewildered.

“I think,” Drake said firmly. “We shall never speak of this incident again.” He paused to give Kon a moment to consider this. “Tea?”


	10. In which Luthor helps Kon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ghost stories!

Beth was a woman of her word. She ignored both her brother and Kon so pointedly during lunch, that as she made her exit, farewelling everyone but Drake and Kon, Luthor was prompted to ask “Trouble in paradise?”

Drake shrugged. “You know young women,” he said. “My sister will regain her good temper soon, I expect. Mr Wilson, what is your opinion of our madman?”

Kon was not in the mood to discuss the vampyre and excused himself to return to the library. 

Unexpectedly, Luthor followed him. “I hope you will forgive me if I speak of a matter that must give you some embarrassment,” the professor told him. “But I can vouch for the integrity of my guests, and the silence of my servants can easily be bought. Miss Drake, therefore, has no claim to force you into marriage --”

“You have the wrong end of the matter,” Kon said miserably. “I hope I do not break a confidence in saying so, but she has refused utterly my proposal.”

Luthor was clearly surprised. “Refused you?”

“You don’t have to dwell on it.”

“But this is -- why should she refuse my . . . guest?”

Kon shrugged. “I imagine she found my offer distasteful. I am not in love with her --”

“Strange, I did not imagine Miss Drake to be the kind of young woman to dream of romance.”

“She does read a lot of french novels.”

“True, very true.” Luthor stroked his chin, considering the matter. “Do you want to marry her?”

“I suppose.”

“That does not sound at all definite. Tell me, Kon, what do you want? Remember, I can gurantee that no word of the unfortunate misunderstanding of last night will ever leave this castle.”

Kon thought about it. “I don’t much care if she marries me or not,” he said at last. “But I do want to be friends again.”

Luthor squeezed his shoulder. “I shall see what I can do. Be in the drawing room in a couple of hours.”

“What do you have in mind?”

“Ah! That would be telling.” Luthor shook a finger at Kon, looking very pleased with himself. “We shall see you in two hours.”

Luthor was every bit as good as his word. When Kon entered the drawing room, it was to find that, having drawn the drawing room curtains and extinguished all but a few candles, Beth, Pratt, Wilson and Luthor were attempting to outdo each other with ghost stories. Beth’s cheeks and eyes were glowing with obvious enjoyment, and although her manner grew stiff as Kon was waved over to the table, she could not let his presence distract her from her pleasure. 

Luthor had counted on the ghost stories to make her amenable, and as Pratt finished his strange account of the Green Man-Beast of Brighton Wells, Luthor urged Kon to speak, pointing out that Mr Kent must surely have supernatural tales from the New World that none of them had heard yet. 

Kon obliged to the best of his ability. 

Beth made one of the best audiences Kon had ever had. She was as much interested in Kon’s encounter with the famous Headless Horseman of legend, as she was in the native legends he recounted. Kon found himself warming to his tale, and it was with as much surprise as Beth that he realised that somewhere in the telling, the others had stolen discreetly out of the room, leaving them alone. 

“Cowards all,” Beth complained as she drew back the curtains. “I never got to tell them about the ghosts I’ve met.”

“You can tell me,” Kon said. “Come back to the table.”

Beth glanced at him. “We can’t sit alone in the dark, Mr Kent --”

“Conner,” Kon said firmly. “We can take a walk around the battlements and you can tell me all about your ghosts then.”

She studied him thoughtfully. “You will not attempt to propose to me?”

“I promise.”

“Very well,” Beth took his arm. “Stop me if you’ve heard this one before.”

By the time they had finished their circuit of the battlements they were firm friends again. Kon leaned against the Castle Wall, watching Beth, perched on the edge of the battlements, finish her tale. Kon was surprised to realise just how happy the simple fact of her company made him. 

“You’re watching me very closely,” Beth noted, startlingly Kon out of his thoughts. “I do hope you’re not going to make some stupid comment about me being beautiful or anything.”

Kon grinned. “Wouldn’t dream of it. Your brother would probably gut me.”

“Yes, he probably would. What’s on your mind, Conner?”

Kon took her hand and squeezed it. “Let’s not quarrel again,” he said. “I was right about one thing this morning -- we’re friends. I’ve missed you terribly -- are you still angry with me?”

Beth’s mouth quirked. “Maybe just a little,” she said. “But I like being friends with you more so I shall forgive you. As a word of advice -- next time you propose to a girl, don’t make it sound as though you’re doing her a favour.”

Kon winced. “I apologise. That was not my intended impression. Anything else?”

“I believe going down on one knee is traditional,” Miss Drake said thoughtfully. “And usually there is a ring involved. Or so I suppose -- I’m not exactly well practiced in the art of being proposed to.”

“That was my second.”

“Oh. What happened -- were you refused?”

“I -- well, I was very young. We were of very different walks of life. She was right to refuse me, and I suppose it was naive of me to even consider -- but I did love Tana very much. When she died --” Kon paused. 

Beth squeezed his arm. “I’m sorry.”

“That was really your first proposal?”

Beth nodded. “I suppose I’m not really cut out for marriage. I have no domestic skills to speak of, and little patience for household management.”

“You’re wasted in Europe. In the States, a woman of your calibre would find her strength and determination appreciated.”

“How kind of you to say so.”

“I mean it. It doesn’t seem fair --”

“A lot of things aren’t. I could never marry, Conner, no matter how dear to me the person making the offer was.”

Kon was startled. “Surely under the right circumstances --”

“There are no right circumstances. Do you remember why I was not affected by the vampyre’s spell?”

Her eyes were light yellow, even in the daylight. Kon swallowed. “You really are . . . not human?”

She smiled sadly. “I inherited the vampyric taint from my parents. Any children I have will become vampyres on their death. As will I.”

“Oh.” 

“I have a special provision in my will. When I die, I’m to be staked, decapitated then burnt.” 

“Very thorough.” Kon said faintly. 

“Well, you have to be. It’s not much fun when your parents come back from the grave to kill you,” Beth said feelingly. 

Kon patted her arm. “I’m sorry.” 

“It’s okay,” Beth said. “I’ve had my entire life to get used to it. Funerals in my family are rather the event.” She glanced at Kon. “What about you?”

Kon hesitated then pulled himself up to sit on the wall beside her. “No one’s really sure. I was the only thing that survived of an experiment that went wrong somehow. I was found in the wreckage. All we know is that I was intended to be a weapon against the supernatural creatures, so I was improved --”

“Improved?”

“The professors argue over what to call me. Most go for meta-prodigy. But Jim -- that’s Professor Harper -- prefers the term superhuman,” Kon explained.

“Superhuman?”

“I’m stronger than others, and I can do stuff most people can’t,” Kon explained. “My -- well, this guy I know, Clark, says that its the responsibility of those of us with outstanding abilities to protect and serve those around us. Kind of like your Arthurian Knights --”

“I like that,” Beth said. “Much better to be a knight than damned.”

“What?”

“Vampyres are believed by most to be accursed souls unworthy of the church’s attention,” Beth explained. “The church says there is no hope for our souls. We’re kind of . . . well, if people knew about us there would be mobs, pitchforks, the whole deal. Tim’s done a marvellous job of protecting me, but -- I’m a living vampyre. No one can save me.”

Kon was horrified. “You really believe that?”

“What else is there to believe? But since no matter what I do I’m damned, I might as well live well, don’t you think?” Beth smiled at him. “And I’m faster and stronger than most humans too, so while I live -- I think I’ll be a knight like you, Conner.”

“You won’t forget me I hope,” Drake had appeared so silently, both Kon and Miss Drake started. “After I promised to be the one to decapitate you and everything.”

“Tim!” Beth greeted him. “You mean that? Even after --”

Drake held out his arms. “What else are brothers for?”

Beth threw her arms around him warmly. Kon smiled. It appeared as though things were back to normal. 

"First order of business," Drake said. "We find the vampyre, with or without the aid of Luthor, Wilson and the others. Second order of business -- Destroy it utterly."

Beth accepted her brother's decision without murmur, but Kon was doubtful. 

"You haven't forgotten that Luthor plans to trap it --"

"Allowing an undead creature to remain alive to prey on unsuspecting humans is frankly unacceptable," Drake said. "We will eliminate it."

"Do you really think it can be contained by mortal means?" Beth asked. "Remember how easily it made itself smoke and escaped the library."

"You have a point," Kon conceded. "But Luthor --"

"Hear me out," Drake said. "What I have to say may surprise you." He awaited Kon's nod before continuing. "In the course of my reading, I found several histories of this area amongst those in Luthor's library. 30 years ago there was an outbreak of death that was eventually linked to a vampyre --"

"The village we saw abandoned," Beth said with sudden understanding. 

"The inhabitants forced from their homes by the revenants," Drake nodded. "The culprit was fixed upon as a William Harm, already suspected for the death of his sister --"

"Greta!" Beth said with horror. "He didn't --"

"I very much fear he did."

"Did what?" Kon looked from one sibling to the other. "You've lost me."

"A dark practice exists where one can make a blood pact with the old ones," Drake said, eyes serious. "They promise eternal life and power --"

"I think I see where this is going," Kon said. "So Billy made a pact with these old ones and they made him a vampyre and in return -- what did they gain?"

"An innocent life," Drake said and Beth added.

"Greta. No wonder she's a ghost -- they've still got her soul."

"William was fixed upon as the vampyre and destroyed," Drake continued. "The villagers resettled. All was quiet for 30 years."

"And now he's back," Kon said. "Why? If they didn't destroy him properly the first time, why would he wait?"

"Why indeed?" Drake said. 

Kon studied him squarely. "What do you know?"

"Luthor came to this castle with the aim of trapping this vampyre," Drake said. "He has said so."

Beth nodded, and even Kon agreed. "That's no secret --"

"The vampyre's activity dates to two weeks after Luthor took possession of the castle."

Kon stared. "You're not suggesting --"

"What other explanation is there?" Drake said. "Conner. Seven young woman have been killed, three more attacked so far by this beast in Luthor's pursuit of eternal life. Will you let this continue?"

Kon looked from Drake to Beth, standing at his shoulder and sighed. "Fine. Let's destroy it."

Drake smiled one of his rare smiles. "Excellent. Glad to have you aboard, Conner."


	11. In which there is a proposal.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So many proposals! I don't know why I didn't just call this Pride & Vampyres or something.

They obtained the use of the trap on the pretext of retrieving their luggage, and made the journey back through the woods that afternoon. It was a completely different trip in the daylight. The horse ran along smoothly and steadily, and Kon even let Beth try her hand at the reins. 

Drake gave directions from the back of the trap, steering them down a by path, that although heavily overgrown and obviously disused, had fresh cart tracks in evidence. Drake had them stop the cart so that Kon could compare them.

“Exactly the same width as the trap wheels,” Kon reported.

“We didn’t come this way when I was out riding with Wilson and Pratt the other day,” Beth added. 

Drake didn’t say anything but he radiated smugness.

Kon climbed back into the trap with a sigh. “Don’t you ever get sick of being right?”

“Those of us in possession of superior faculties for reasoning have to take our fun where we can.”

“Sure. Whatever you say, Tim.”

Beth giggled, and Kon found himself grinning. He really was happy that they were friends again. 

The deserted village was more pathetic in aspect than creepy, but it unsettled Kon all the same. The houses stood with doors open, crosses scratched over the doorframes and the windows. In places boards and other building materials had either been removed or destroyed, and Kon felt oddly like the houses were watching them, bare window panes gaping like empty eye sockets.

Beth and Drake got down to business immediately, arming themselves from the supplies in the trap, and sorting out the equipment. They were obviously practiced at this. 

Kon asked, as he accepted a lantern and stake from Beth, “Just exactly how long have you been doing this?”

“I think I staked my first vampyre aged eleven -- how about you, Beth?”

“I really don’t remember. It was so long ago.”

“Eleven?” That explained a lot although Kon couldn’t quite believe that Drake had ever been that young. “That doesn’t explain why you do your best to pretend that these monsters don’t exist.”

“Ah.” Drake waved a finger at him. “That’s business. We don’t discuss business before 5 o’clock.”

“But --”

“How’s your leg, Tim? Think you’ll be all right?”

“I should manage. I’m going to have to rely on you two to tackle the thing.” Drake accepted his sister’s hand to help himself down from the carriage, and Kon had an odd sense of dislocation. Could these really be the same people that he had arrived at Castle Cadmus with two days previous? 

Beth had relaxed a lot around him, no longer so fussy with regards to her dress. She’d also stopped looking to her brother for permission to so much as speak, and Kon fancied that Drake had unbent some himself. Or perhaps it was just their professionalism coming through? 

Beth saw her brother got his crutch settled, then took her parasol and Kon’s arm. “We start at the church?”

“Seems logical.”

The chapel was, if possible, even more deserted than the rest of the village. At one point the door had been nailed shut, but it had clearly been forced open, and recently too. Further evidence of upheaval was found inside the church where the ruined pews had been shifted back to make space for something -- Kon watched Drake dust ash from his hand and look at Beth. 

“Anything?”

“Old blood. Not human I think -- animal maybe?”

“This does not bode well,” Drake noted, leaning on his crutch. “Now, if I know my gothic literature, we need to find a crypt --”

“There’s a trapdoor here,” Kon said. “It looks like its been oiled.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised,” Drake said. “Well? Waiting for an invitation?”

Kon didn’t know how he’d been picked as the muscle of the group, but he set to it. He removed his cabled jumper and tie, handing them to Beth, before rolling up his sleeves, and tugging at the bronze ring set into the middle of the flooring stone. With a bit of effort he managed to get one end lifted, and setting his shoulder against it, he heaved the stone aside. 

Beth and Drake watched in silence. 

“You’re rather impressive,” Drake said at last. “I don’t suppose you’d be interested in some contractual work?”

Kon shrugged, dusting his hands off. “My scholarship covers my travel and accomodation costs while I’m here.”

“We’d make it worth your while, of course -- I wonder what we could find to tempt you with?” Drake and his sister shared a glance, and before Kon could enquire, Miss Drake stepped forward to loop Kon’s tie around his neck. 

“That was very well done,” she said as Drake descended the trapdoor. “Tim will admit to being impressed by very few things.”

Kon shrugged, leaning in a little so that she could more easily fasten his tie. “It would go against the superior image he’s cultivating, wouldn’t it?”

She laughed as she finished straightening Kon’s tie. “It would, rather. He is rather particular --” She paused as Kon let his fingers rest on her shoulder. “Conner?”

“Shush,” Kon said, cupping her cheek gently and leaning in to press his lips to hers.

Having already witnessed her rather enthusiastic approach to kissing, Kon shouldn’t have been surprised by the response. Beth did being wooed like she did anything else -- recklessly, passionately and with no thought of the consequences. It was a combination that would have been hard to resist -- and Kon wasn’t even trying. He gathered Beth against himself as the kiss continued, enjoying the warmth of her body against his. 

Letting her go, even to catch breath, was a great loss. 

“I should apologise,” Kon said breathlessly, noticing rather belatedly that his arm was now about Beth’s waist. “It was unmannerly of me not to ask --”

“Please,” Beth said, stroking Kon’s cheek gently. “That was not something you need to apologise for.” She seemed to be having as much trouble catching breath as Kon was, and he noted with some satisfaction the pink tinge to her cheeks. 

“Hurry down with the other lamp,” Drake called from below. “I’ve found something I’d like a closer look at it.”

He was completely disregarded. 

Beth’s smile was distinctly mischevious as she stood on tip-toe to kiss Kon again. “I think I’ve also found something that bears closer examination.”

“As have I.” Kon wondered why this didn’t occur to him earlier. 

“Beth? Mr Kent? Did you not hear me?”

“And you said you had no skill in the domestic arts,” Kon said.

“This counts?”

“Absolutely,” Kon said with feeling. “That was a kiss any woman could be proud of.”

Beth stared at him. “Any -- Mr Kent, you’ll be so good to release me please --”

Kon blinked at her, bemused by the abrupt change. “I hope I didn’t offend --”

“I forgot -- I --” She tugged away hastily. “I beg your pardon. I forgot myself.”

“Hello? I am waiting for the other lantern.”

Kon glanced towards the open trapdoor, then leant in to pat Beth’s arm. “That was nothing to be ashamed of -- trust me on that,” he said, kissing her forehead gently. Picking up the other lantern he joined Drake through the trapdoor.

“At last. I would like to point out that I am not standing around down here for my own amusement.”

Kon stared. “But -- this is the room that the passage led to.”

“I thought as much,” Drake said, taking the lantern from Kon. “Ah-ha! I have it -- the Harm family vaults are through this door. Beth, do you remember the family history?”

“Well enough, I suppose,” Beth joined her brother, having got her blush under control although she did avoid meeting Kon’s eyes. 

Kon smiled, watching as the two of poured over the ancient coffins. Was it only that morning that he’d resigned himself to the loss of romance and beauty? Even the thought of having Drake as a brother-in-law no longer seemed repellant --

“I think you’re right,” Beth said. “The parents, this is Greta -- so this must be his.”

“Conner?” Drake called. “We’re going to need your help again.”

Kon positioned himself next to the coffin. “Are you sure about this? I mean, letting a vicious, powerful vampyre out of his coffin --”

“We’ve still got a few hours of daylight left,” Drake pointed out. “This may be our only chance.”

“You’re the expert.” Kon hefted the coffin lid. 

He almost dropped the lid at the twin cries of dismay from both Drakes, fearing an attack.

They should be so fortunate.

“It’s empty.” Kon pointed out.

“But look at the coffin -- this dent was undoubtedly a stake -- and these scorch marks -- I rather fancy this was holy water encountering vampyre flesh.”

“So Billy was the vampyre, and Billy was destroyed,” Beth said. “But this -- his body was removed.”

“And reanimated,” Drake said. “And now he could be anywhere. Luthor doesn’t have him, so I think we can assume that William is acting on his own --”

“What do we do now?” Kon pointed out. “We can’t search all the tombs in this crypt before sundown --”

“There’s nothing to say he hasn’t secreted himself in one of the graves outside,” Drake said thoughtfully. “The peasants around here are superstitious -- they wouldn’t agree to dig up the churchyard which would explain why the vampyre has eluded them thus far.”

“It’s hopeless then?” Kon asked.

“Not for us,” Drake said. “Mr Kent, you see before you the best vampyre hunters in England.” He handed the other lantern back to his sister. “You take the churchyard, I take the crypt?”

“Sounds like a plan,” Beth said, mounting the stairs.

“I’ll accompany you,” Kon started after her. 

“Yes, that makes sense. Leave the man with the injured foot on his own. I wonder that did not occur to me,” Drake sounded more amused than annoyed. “Mr Kent? Do be careful with my sister.”

Kon just grinned at him. 

“What are you looking for?” he asked, joining Beth in a circuit of the graveyard. 

“Not looking so much as feeling,” she said. “As a -- I suppose you’d call it a by-product of my heritage. I can sense when vampyres are about.”

“Do you sense anything?”

“I know that he’s close,” she said. “Beyond that --”

Kon walked along side her in silence for a while. “Beth --”

“Please put what happened earlier out of your mind. I wasn’t thinking --”

“I was. I was thinking of this morning, how you turned me down -- you were perfectly right to. I apologise for giving you the impression that I was proposing a marriage of convenience. It wasn’t until I feared that I had destroyed our friendship for ever that I realised what you had come to mean to me.”

Beth turned to stare at him. “Mr Kent -- what are you saying?”

“Kon,” Kon told her. He took her hand, going down on one day. “Marry me,” he said. “I don’t care about your heritage -- I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

“You’re proposing to me in a graveyard,” Beth said. “You are aware you’re proposing to me in a graveyard?”

“I couldn’t wait,” Kon said. “Please, say yes. You’ll make me the happiest man alive --”

Beth stared at him then tugged her hand away. “You get points for remembering to go down on one knee this time,” she said. “But you really need to work on your sincerity -- and your timing. Overall, I give this proposal a 4 --”

“I am sincere.” Kon caught her arm before she could leave, pulling her close. “Beth, I love you.”

She stared at him, then, to Kon’s complete astonishment, hit him. “You can’t mean that -- you don’t!” she cried, punctuating each sentence by punching Kon in the chest. “You -- how dare you say that!”

“Hush,” Kon said, gathering her into his arms, and kissing her forehead to calm her down. “With all my heart --”

Beth sniffed and clung to him. “Conner -- Mr Kent --”

“Kon.”

“Kon -- I can’t accept.”

“We’ll talk your brother round,” Kon promised. “Don’t worry. I know how much you two mean to each other, I won’t try and separate you --”

Beth pushed Kon away, taking a step back. “Kon,” she said. “I admire and respect you greatly. But I can’t accept. There’s a lot you don’t know about me.”

“I’m willing to learn,” Kon said, honestly. “I know you’re not human. I’m not either--”

“You’re making this much harder than it should be!” 

Kon was taken back by her vehemence. “Is it really so impossible?”

“I’m sorry,” Beth said. 

“At least tell me why?”

Beth stared at him helplessly. “I’m not -- I’m a -- you’re a good person, Kon. Too good.”

“What are you saying?”

“You said it -- you’re a knight. A knight wants a maiden.” Beth took another step back. “I’m not exactly a maiden.”

“Oh.” Kon should have expected that. “I can live with that -- I mean, Tana --”

“No! You’re not listening!” Beth took a deep breath. “I’m -- I’m not . . . I’m not Tim’s sister.” 

Now Kon got it. “Oh,” he said. “Ohhh.”

Beth watched him with a mixture of apprehension and relief. “You see why its impossible?”

Kon nodded. It felt like he’d just been hit in the stomach with a swamp zombie.

“I’m so glad I could tell you -- its been awful pretending to be something I wasn’t.” Beth gave him a hug. “And we can go back to being friends and I won’t have to pretend or anything --”

Kon patted her on the head. “Yes,” he said, wondering at his voice. It didn’t even sound like his voice, more like someone a distance away speaking in his ear.

Beth squeezed his hand. “I’m so glad you understand,” she repeated. “Kon -- we’re going to be such good friends.” She let go, scrambling over a tombstone. “I’m going to look for the vampyre over here -- let me know if you see any freshly dug up earth or anything.”

“Of course,” said Kon, watching numbly as Beth continued on her way. As she disappeared behind a crypt he stared at his hands. 

Drake. And Beth. Drake. All those looks, the kisses and Drake so smug -- “Why not? I could do with a laugh."--all the time he was touching her and -- god, he was self righteous, and using her, taking advantage of her good nature and trust --

Kon was going to kill him.


	12. In which there is a notable fight.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Whoops!

“Ah, Conner,” Drake greeted him. “Did you find anything?”

“Not as such, no,” Kon said, and that was all the warning Drake got. 

He moved fast for a guy with an injured ankle. “What in h--- was that for?”

“Hold still so I can pound you into dust!” Kon said aggreived. Drake’s conduct was vexatious in the extreme.

“Pardon me if I prefer my limbs intact,” Drake said. He’d managed to put a stone crypt between himself and Kon and was proving exceedingly tricky to catch. “Now do you mind telling me what this is about, or should I assume you’ve been taken over by a demonic force and react accordingly?”

“I talked to Beth,” Kon said. “She told me everything!”

“That seems rather unlikely,” Drake said cautiously. “Fifteen minutes seems a rather small amount of time for Beth to tell you everything --”

“She told me enough!” Kon made another furious but vain grab for Drake. “She told me that you’re her lover!” And if it hurt to think it, saying it was a thousand times worse --

“Ah.” Drake sounded mildly surprised. “I have to say I wasn’t expecting that.”

“You don’t deny it?” Kon was so caught up in his effort to punish Drake that he accidentally demolished a stone cherub as he passed. “You rotter -- scoundrel --”

“You Americans are so narrow-minded,” Drake complained, scrambling out of the way of the debris and disappearing into another vault. 

Kon followed him. “Forgive me, but I don’t find the idea of you using that -- that sweet, trusting girl for your own pleasure amusing--” Kon paused. The vault was dark and shadowy, and he’d lost sight of Drake. 

“I like to think that the relationship is pleasurable for the both of us,” Drake said and Kon ground his hand into the wall beside him in anger, denting the rock. 

“I am going to hit you so hard you’ll wake up in next week,” Kon promised, following Drake’s voice into the darkness.

“That strikes me as a tad of an over-reaction.” It was difficult to pinpoint exactly his location. Kon swung out at a shadowy figure ahead of him, and a stone angel met an unhappy fate. “I did tell you not to consider Beth in a matrimonial bent, and neither of us have encouraged you to believe --”

“I love her,” Kon said, squeezing his hands into fists. He was shocked at how hoarse and desperate his voice sounded. “I love --” God, it hurt.

Cool fingers rested on his shoulder, and Drake spoke behind him. “I really am sorry. We neither of us ever meant to hurt you --”

“You don’t love her.” Kon’s shoulders sagged in defeat.

“We have,” Drake said carefully. “A working arrangement.” He guided Kon over to sit on a stone slab that formed the ceiling of a coffin. 

“What does that mean?” 

“It means that we cannot marry and have no intention to -- no,” said Drake firmly. “Before you decide to beat me up, you should be aware that Beth entered into this relationship fully cognisant of these facts.”

“I can’t believe it,” Kon said. “She turned me down the first time because I didn’t love her --”

“You insulted her,” Drake pointed out. 

“But why would she chose you? You’re so cold, so calculating -- and I love her, would do anything for her --”

“You must stop thinking like that. Such thoughts will only pain you.” Drake took him by the shoulders. “It is no fault of yours that she refuses. It is simply impossible.”

“Why?”

Drake patted Kon’s shoulders. He had cool fingers, comforting. “She may crave love, security,” he said softly. “But she needs danger, excitement -- darkness. She needs me. And I -- I can honestly say that I’m a different person when she’s with me. She helps me live --”

The ancient crypt was still a few minutes as they reflected silently. 

At last Kon cleared his throat. “It goes without saying, I suppose, that if you ever harm her I shall make you suffer for it.”

“I did get that impression from you, yes,” Drake agreed. “Would you believe me if I said that she’s not very good?”

Kon thought about the kiss. “Is that true?”

“No, I was lying to try and make you feel better.”

“It didn’t work.”

“I’ve been told I’m not very good at cheering people up,” Drake confessed. “But I really am sorry. You’ve become very dear to both of us -- if you ever need a place to stay in London, look me up.”

Kon nodded, not trusting himself to speak. “I’ll do that.”

“Good show.” Drake clapped him on the back. “I expect we should go back to the task at hand.”

Kon wasn’t sure if Drake being so understanding about it all made it better or worse. On reflection, as satisfying as grinding Drake’s bones to a paste would have been, it would probably have distressed Beth. On the other hand, Kon still very much wanted to hit something. 

He settled for slamming his fist into the stone slab. 

With a huge clap, the slab splintered, slowly cracking and falling apart to reveal a pallid form beneath. Kon took a step back, aghast at the consequences of his actions. The cloth below the stone was old, the short glimpse of skin Kon saw a rather hideous shade of decay and the stench indescribably foul -- but the flesh of the cadaver was plump and full and despite the obvious age of the coffin, there was no sign of decay --

“Well,” said Drake, voice slightly muffled by the hand he was holding over his mouth. “That’s one way to find a vampyre.”

“Ah ha ha ha,” said Kon, wondering if it would be unmanly of him to vomit. 

Much against Kon’s will, the rest of the slab was shifted away, to reveal Harm in all his undead glory. Despite his grotesque appearance, and the truly awful smell, Kon couldn’t help but be impressed at this evidence of survival beyond the grave -- if it could be considered survival . . . The fangs protrusing from Harm’s mouth were bestial in the extreme, and although his behaviour of the night before had indicated reason and knowledge of himself and his surroundings, at the moment he seemed nothing so much as man made beast.

“What is keeping Beth?” Drake demanded impatiently. “She has the matches.” He had produced a mallet and stake from his coat and was lining them up against the thing’s heart. 

As if on cue, a soft call disturbed the crypt. “Tim?”

“At last!” Drake greeted her. “What kept you?”

“You’ll have to forgive me. I’ve been . . . a little tied up.”

There was a strange note in Beth’s voice. Kon took a step towards the door of the vault they were in, but Drake spread his hand in front of Kon’s chest, halting him. “In the figurative sense?” he asked, passing the mallet and stake to Kon, and indicating he should take Drake’s place. “Or do you mean literally?”

“Quite literally,” Beth sounded miserable. “I was surprised.”

“I see,” Drake took up post beside the vault door. “So, to what do I owe this unexpected pleasure, Luthor?”

The soft chuckle that answered Drake’s enquiry was perhaps the most unnerving thing in the tomb. “I invited you and your charming companion here for the express purpose of using you to find the vampyre for me. Now it appears you have done just that. I must ask you to drop any weapons you may have in hand and exit the vault in an orderly fashion -- or Miss Allen will suffer the consequences.”

“As it appears I have no choice, very well.” Drake signalled Kon clearly to stay behind, making a staking motion and pointing to the Vampyre before sliding his rifle along the heavy stone floor. “There is my gun,” he announced. 

“Proceed out,” Luthor directed. “But keep your hands where we can see them at all times.”

Now, mouthed Tim, motioning to the corpse. “Here I come,” he announced. “I must say, you have a strange way of thanking people who do you a favour.”

Nerving himself for the distasteful task, Kon raised the stake. It was no good -- he wouldn’t be able to do this without them hearing the crack of the stake against the mallet -- something to muffle it? He shrugged quickly out of his jumper and placed the fabric between the stake and the mallet. 

The muffled thunk did not appear to be noticed by anyone else in the Crypt. 

“Beth, are you unharmed? If you scoundrels do anything to hurt her --”

“You are hardly in a position to be making demands, Mr Drake. I do not see Mr Kent anywhere -- did he not accompany you?”

“He wished no part in this adventure,” Drake lied. “He was anxious about his luggage so we dropped him at the village. I expect he’ll be wondering what’s become of us --”

“Tragic really,” Luthor mused. “Still accidents happen, even to the most promising of monster hunters.” There was a metallic scraping sound. “Tell me, Mr Drake, where is the vampyre?”

At that moment, Kon pierced the creature’s heart. With a horrible shriek, it seized up covulsively, fangs bared in a ghastly grimace of pain and hatred. Kon started, reflexively swinging at the creature, driving the stake all the way through. 

This did not go unnoticed. 

“Through there --” Luthor ordered and the next minute Wilson and Pratt charged into the room. 

“Get away from it,” Wilson ordered Kon, and seeing as he had a rather big gun levelled at Kon’s chest, Kon thought he might as well comply. “If you’ve killed it --”

“I am rather more difficult to kill than that,” the vampyre rasped, disregarding the liquid seeping from the wound or the fact that his flesh around the stake was quickly decomposing. It struck out with clawed hands and Mr Pratt cried out in pain as his blood splattered on the cold stones.

Kon saw an opening to escape and took it, leaving the vampyre scooping up the blood greedily in its hands, and Mr Pratt recoiling in horror. He charged into the main room of the crypt, coming to a halt at the sight that met him. Mr Teth was in the process of binding Drake’s hands, and he stared at Kon’s arrival. Taking advantage of his captor’s momentary confusion, Drake kicked him, struggling to free himself. 

Before Kon could go to his aid, Luthor hefted the gun he carried. “I wouldn’t,” he warned, holding Beth in front of him. “Really, Mr Kent. I am disappointed. I expected such unmannerly behaviour from the Drakes, but I had hopes for you.”

Beth’s arms were bound behind her back, but she looked more annoyed than alarmed. “Is it --”

Kon had to duck out of the doorway quickly as a gun was discharged in the room behind him. “It’s not dead, if that’s what you’re asking,” he said as Pratt barrelled through, followed by Wilson. 

“It’s stronger than we anticipated,” Wilson reported, already reloading his weapon. 

“We can still capture it,” Luthor said, keeping his gun trailed on Kon and Drake, preventing them from coming to Beth’s aid. “We have bait --” He shoved Beth towards the door.

“Try to run and we shoot,” Wilson told her grimly. 

“You don’t expect the vampyre to go for such an obvious trap,” Drake protested. Although he had worked his way to Kon’s side, the gun that Luthor kept trailed on the two of them kept them from aiding Beth. 

“He won’t be able to help himself,” Teth said confidently. “The blood of a living vampyre is supposed to have marvellous curative properties --”

“You heartless fiend!” Kon said heatedly. “Let her go!”

Beth had managed to get her hands free of the rope. “I must protest--” she started, stopping as a movement beyond the doorway attracted her immediate attention. She took a step backwards as Harm appeared, walking towards her with a definite predatory air. 

Harm appeared fully cognizant of the trap, but scornful in the extreme. He sneered at the weapons Wilson and Teth raised against him, turning his back on them as he took another step towards Beth. The bullets striking him didn’t seem to phase him even slightly. “You expect mortal weapons to work on me? Fools!” The stake wound was still there and vivid, but there was colour in his flesh once more and some of the decaying, discoloured patch had faded. Fresh blood stained his mouth and hands and his smirk was totally unafraid. “Once I drink from this charming young lady, I will be beyond any destruction!”

“What does he mean?” Kon muttered to Drake.

“Living vampyres live beyond the scope of mortal years,” Drake reminded him. “It is speculated they might be immortal. I imagine the effects of that blood on a vampyre--”

“No, the other bit. I didn’t like the way he said lady --”

“Tim,” Beth said, taking another step backwards. “If I could bother you momentarily?”

“Of course, I’ve been remiss.” Tim snatched an object up and threw it to Beth. Kon assumed he’d managed to get his hands on a weapon and it wasn’t until Beth caught it that he saw it was the parasol. 

“Drake? I don’t wish to criticise but --”

Harm laughed. “You think you can stop me with that?”

“I don’t know,” Beth said composedly. “I suppose we shall have to find out.” She parried Harm’s attempted slash with the parasol handle, and thus began one of the most surreal battles Kon had ever witnessed. Lace and silk met claw and bone, and the whole thing was conducted in the centre of the room with everyone watching, like some weird gladiatorial contest. It was mostly silent, except for the odd bestial snarl from Harm, everyone watching each other and the fight. At one point Kon took an automatic step forwards as Beth stumbled, but the warning click of Wilson’s gun held him back. He was too fearful of her safety even to call out to her. 

Teth, following the moves of the combatants with his pistol in hand swore. “Can’t get a good shot at the girl without risking hitting him --”

And then, suddenly, it was all over.

Beth lost her balance, stumbling back and Harm took the opportunity to go in for the kill. There was a quick, sterile clicking noise and Harm’s head hit the ground with a grim thud, and Beth finished the battle by driving the parasol through his heart. 

Drake leaped forward to smash the lantern over Harm’s corpse, the gas quickly igniting the body, even while Kon stared amazed. 

“She had a switchblade in her parasol,” Kon noted, feeling his chest swell with warmth and admiration. “She had a switchblade in her parasol --”

Not everyone was so appreciative. “Put him out! Quickly! Save the vampyre!” Luthor sounded frantic.

“How?”

Pratt’s eye fell on the cannisters of water Drake had been carrying. “Here! Use this!”

The bottles were quickly uncorked and tipped over the vampyre. 

As the parts of the cadaver that had not yet been consumed by the flame hissed and crumpled into ashes on contact with the water, it occurred to the party of Monster trappers that the Drakes had been even more well prepared than they’d anticipated. 

“Holy water.” Wilson noted. “D-----.”

Luthor stormed angrily over to the corner where Drake and Beth were trying to ascertain if the other was all right. “You’ve cost me years -- research and location -- do you know how hard it was to find a verified vampyre? You two will pay for this --”

Kon hastened to interpose himself between Luthor and his friends. “Leave them alone!” he said. “Or I’ll be forced to have to stop you.”

“No,” Luthor said softly. He drew a metal box out of his pocket, and opened it carefully. “I rather fancy you will not.”

Kon got a glance of something green and glowing and that was the last he knew.


	13. In which Luthor demonstrates that he is dedicated to his work.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luthor is apparently, not a nice guy.

Cool fingers smoothed Kon’s brow, and Kon made a soft sound of relief. His head swum with pain and confusion, and the soft, cold touch of those fingers was order amongst rude chaos, soothing sweetness against the disorientation in his thoughts. “Beth?” he rasped. 

The fingers paused. “What would be your second guess?”

“Drake.” Kon opened his eyes. His surroundings swam in front of his eyes a moment, settling finally into the form of Drake, leaning over him with concern, steel bars and a small, cell-like room that Kon didn’t recognise. “Where --?”

Drake resumed stroking Kon’s forehead. “We’re Luthor’s prisoners. He’s holding us somewhere under his castle.”

“Beth?”

“They took her away to do tests. That was about an hour ago -- you’ve been out some time.” Drake’s fingers really were surprising soft and soothing. “Do you have any idea why that rock affected you so strongly?”

“I was hoping you’d have a clue.” Kon groggily tried to sit. 

Drake helped him upright. “None whatsoever. You were the only one affected. Apart from the colouring, the rock appeared ordinary enough, if you disregard the glowing that is. Beth and I speculated that it might be either magical in origin or of some other unworldly source.”

“Ah.” Kon put a hand to his forehead, the move making his head swim even further. “You’ve got nice hands,” he said without reflection. “Womanly.”

“You’d be surprised how often I hear that,” Drake said and Kon was too disorientated to work out if he were being facetitious or not. He settled for resting against the back wall of their cell, waiting for things to acheive some semblance of sense.

“I’d have thought they’d be more, you know,” he said with a shrug. “Callused. From stakes and things.”

“You forget,” Drake said, settling back against the wall beside him. “I am a gentleman of leisure and a skeptic to boot. I do not go running around staking vampyres willy-nilly.”

“Is this business?” Kon asked, wincing as the swirling in his head settled into the more regular pulse of a headache. “I’ve lost track of time but surely it’s after five --”

Drake chuckled. “Part of not being what I seem is seeming what I’m not,” he said. “No one would suspect a genuine organisation that promotes scientific endaevour and excellence to cover up a group dedicated to the extermination of the plague of unnatural creatures that prey on mankind.”

“That’s what you do?”

“That’s what we do.”

“Beth is also a member?”

“Beth is something of an exception,” Tim said carefully. “The Director prefers not to involve those with . . . shall we say, special traits, in his cases. He believes the traits that make them so remarkable also make them unreliable and difficult to deal with and anticipate, and the Director is all about anticipation.”

“He wouldn’t like me then?”

“Don’t take it personally. The Director doesn’t like anybody.”

Kon thought this over. “So how did Beth get involved?”

Drake smirked. “This was my case. I received permission to handle it anyway I chose, with any weapon I saw fit.”

“So she’s your weapon now?”

“She’d already heard of the vampyric outbreak and would have come whether I’d asked her or not. Joining forces made sense. We’ve worked together in the past successfully, and to tell the truth, I feel better knowing that Beth isn’t working alone --”

Footsteps sounded in the corridor outside, and Drake rose to his feet to meet their captors. Kon would have liked to have followed suit but neither body nor spirit was especially keen. 

“Ah, it appears Mr Kent is awake. How fortunate. We were just arranging our departure too.” Luthor greeted them. “Stay where you are, Drake. Wilson is a d--- fine shot, and if you try to escape you will regret it.”

Beth was pushed into the cell and she folded immediately in a pile of skirts and petticoats.

“Are you all right?” Drake asked, going to her immediately. “You’re so pale -- what did they do?”

“They took a lot of blood,” Beth said, rather faintly. “I’m fine, I’m just dizzy --”

“At least this expedition wasn’t a complete loss,” Luthor said. “I imagine the blood of a living vampyre will be very useful to us in our research. As for securing the other specimen --”

Kon was not impressed to discover that he was the other specimen, or that securing him involved the strange rock. Whatever its origin, its effects were not neglible, and Kon was weakened enough that Pratt could easily remove him from the cell. Kon was held, unable to even think of escape, and only able to watch helplessly as Drake’s arms were secured with rope and tied to a metal hook at one end of the cell, while Beth groggily pulled herself into a standing position at the other.

“Tim,” she said, and the worry in her voice was undisguisable. “You b-------, what do you plan to do to him?”

“Such charming language from a young lady,” Luthor noted. He’d stepped into the cell, and while Beth was held back by Wilson, approached Drake with a smirk. “I can’t express the utmost pleasure it gives me to be arranging your demise, Drake,” he said. “Far be it from me to gloat, but you have been a thorn in my side much too long.”

“I try,” Drake shrugged, wincing as Luthor gathered his hands in the material of Drake’s shirt and ripped. 

Luthor held out his hand and Wilson passed him a hunting knife. “The thought of informing Wayne of the manner of your demise gives me greatest satisfaction,” he said.

Drake hissed, then bit his tongue as Luthor brought the knife down in a single gash across his chest, blood welling immediately in its wake. Kon, however, could not contain his horror.

“You delight in torturing an unarmed, bound man -- you inhuman wretch --”

“Mr Kent, I would advise you to think of your position. Your life depends on my good will,” Luthor said, making another cut. Drake shuddered, but made no sound as Luthor stepped back, apprently pleased with his handiwork. “Besides, is it really so wrong of me to enjoy my work?”

“You call this work?”

“Scientific curiousity,” Luthor explained with a smile that made Kon sick to his stomach. “Aren’t you intrigued? It has often been wondered at what point the regression in the vampyre’s nature occurs which renders it from human to intelligent beast,” Luthor said clinically, wiping the knife clean on the shredded remains of Drake’s shirt. “And how strong the vampyre’s urge to feed is.”

“Tim,” Beth said urgently, her face a pale white that had nothing to do with her blood loss. Her eyes were fixed on the gash on Drake’s chest, and the red slowly spreading downwards.

“I’ll kill you before that happens,” Drake promised, tugging at the rope that bound his hands to the side of the cage. 

“I rather fancy you will not,” Luthor said calmly returning the knife to Wilson. “You are bound and Miss Allen is free. When she succumbs -- as she inevitably will -- to the raw instinct for blood, there will be nothing but whatever remains of her memory of you to protect you from her hunger.”

“That’s -- inhuman!” Kon tore his eyes away from the grisly scene in front of him to stare at Luthor, aghast. 

“Not yet, she isn’t,” Wilson said. 

Kon saw the flash of the knife, saw what Wilson intended. He charged forward but, weakened by the strange green stone, he was easily bent to the ground by Pratt. He choked helplessly as Beth sunk to the ground in front of him, her skirts pillowing out around her and one hand closing reflexively around the knife hilt protruding from her side. 

“No --” Kon shook himself free of Pratt to stretch out a hand to her through the bars. “Beth --”

Beth raised her eyes from the red patch spreading across her dress to stare dazedly at Kon. His fingers brushed her cheek, and her lips parted, as if to speak, but she made no sound. As Kon fought back a sob, she slumped forward against the bars, eyes fluttering shut. 

“Beth--”

“You will pay for this,” Drake said, face white and furious. “I promise you, you’ll pay --”

“I’m sure it will comfort Wayne to know that you were annoying to the very end,” Luthor said, as Wilson locked the cage behind them, leaving Drake and Beth trapped within. “Not that we’ll be here for the end, sadly. No, much as I hate to leave a job half-done we have pressing business elsewhere.”

At Luthor’s nod, Kon was propelled down the hallway. 

“You d------- b-------, all of you!” Kon cried. “I hope you rot in h---, swine! Let me go!”

“I feel I should point out that, assuming you had a choice in the matter, it is much in your best interests to come with us, Mr Kent,” Luthor said crisply, leading the way. “Miss Drake had something of a fondness to you, and it is the tradition of vampyres to feast first upon those that were dear to them in life. Once she has finished Drake, she will most likely come after you -- providing, of course, that the peasant mob outside with the pitchforks and torches don’t discover her first. Which is the second reason it is to your benefit to -- oh, for crying out loud, Pratt. What are you doing?”

The huge man had halted in front of the cage. “It doesn’t seem fair. She was so tiny --”

“This is business,” Wilson reminded him crisply. “No room for sentiment. Come on, Pratt.”

Pratt shook his head as he joined them slowly. “No one said anything about this. I didn’t sign up for murder --”

“I’ll see that you get a bonus once we get out of here,” Luthor said brusquely. “Now for g---’s sake, let’s move!”

Kon had never seen the cool professor so impatient. Clearly, the threat the mob posed was not neglible. 

Luthor had left all this part of the castle out of his tour. The passage eventually led into a large underground room, a wine cellar at one point, that had now been fitted up as a laboratory. Mrs Waller was carefully packing vials of a rich crimson into a case, padding the container with straw. Beth’s blood, Kon realised, feeling sick. 

Of course, the presence of the stone might also have had a hand in that. Kon was forced into a crate of reinforced steel. Even had Kon been at full strength, the crate would have proved difficult and he was worried in more ways than one. “You planned this,” he said, watching Luthor with growing horror. “You knew --”

“I had rather hoped to avoid this eventuality,” Luthor replied. “I want the lock welded shut. I’m not taking any chances with this one.” He checked his watch impatiently. “Why couldn’t you have arrived before the Drake’s did?”

“And I trusted you -- I told you about Beth -- I thought you were helping me!” Kon couldn’t believe he’d been so duped. “You helped me make friends with Beth again --”

“Well, I didn’t want you to be unhappy,” Luthor explained.

Kon was beginning to doubt his captor’s sanity. “You didn’t want me -- You’re killing me here!”

“Mr Kent, do try and behave with a bit more dignity,” Luthor said. “You are hardly in danger of dying. Your predecessor survived being transported in a steel cage without fresh oxygen or nourishment several weeks.”

“My predecessor?” Kon stared. “What the h--- do you mean?”

Luthor returned the stare. “You are a rather foul-mouthed brat, aren’t you?” he said. “I wonder what side of the family you get that from.”

Kon shrugged. “What do you expect? I am a rude colonial.”

“If you knew,” Luthor said, approaching Kon with something like hunger in his eyes. “What you really were --”

The lights went dead, leaving the room in sudden and complete darkness.

“Luthor!” Pratt called urgently, over the confused sounds and muffled crashes. “The lights have been cut!”

“I can see that!” Luthor did not sound impressed at all. 

“I can --”

“Don’t attempt to fix them by yourself. That’s what he wants.” Luthor’s face, illuminated by the green glow of the rock was the only thing Kon could see. “Wilson. Your vampyre light is still plugged in?”

There was the sound of a generator humming, and then the room was filled with the most intense light Kon had ever felt. Wilson’s spotlight held everyone in its path still, as they winced, stunned by the bright light. They appeared almost white themselves, only the starkness of their shadows giving their shape any definition.

And in the middle of the room, bare metres away --

“Drake,” Luthor said, his expression cruel. “Since you appear to be in one piece and the light does not adversely affect you, I am forced to draw the unhappy conclusion that you are neither dead nor a vampyre. I am most disappointed, it was my strongest hope that the lady would prove victorious.”

The light picked out every detail in Drake’s appearance from the tightening of his mouth to the fresh cut above his eye, the raw, bruised flesh about his neck and the other signs of desperate struggle. “I aim to please.”

“Well, I can’t deny that I will derive some pleasure from witnessing your actual death,” Luthor said, waving Wilson to take aim at Drake. “You are surrounded, outnumbered, and soon you will be dead -- yes, it must be galling to know that you and Miss Allen’s deaths will be in vain, that you have failed --”

“If you kill me, I will find some method to torment you from the other world,” Drake said grimly. “I have met denizens of H--- with more decency and compassion than you, sir, or your companions. Your very existence outrages me and I will do anything in my power, no matter what chance I have of success, to resist you and cause you pain. I would gladly die now if my death would work against you but as it won’t I shall have to settle for distracting you so that you fail to notice the incendiary device I have set.”

“Incendiary --” 

“Precisely.” And a mere heartbeat before everything exploded, Drake smiled.


	14. Ghosts, guns and vampyres—oh my!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I have no memory of any of this.

The force of the explosion was enough to knock the door off Kon’s reinforced steel cage. Which was probably the point. Kon covered his mouth from the smoke and ducked out cautiously. Wilson and Teth fired sporadically, and while Luthor’s servants scuttled to get out of the way, the smoke that had not yet cleared from the explosion added further distraction. Possessing the good manners not to look a gift horse in the mouth, Kon took the opportunity to escape.

He did pause once to kick Luthor across the room. Using his enhanced strength on an unsuspecting opponent was about as low as it got, but it was extremely satisfying all the same. 

Drake waved him behind a collection of crates. “We just have to hold them off long enough that the mob outside gets here,” he said. 

“Sounds simple enough,” Kon said, accepting the gun Drake passed him. 

Kon decided he rather liked gun battles. The peril of being shot at was a welcome distraction from the thought that if Drake were here, then Beth was certainly . . . 

Kon couldn’t, however, suppress an exclamation at the sight of the neat ring of teeth marks in Drake’s neck, revealed as Drake leaned over to take a shot, his battered shirt riding up. “By all that’s holy - Drake -“

Drake blinked at him, momentarily confused, putting his hand to his neck. His face immediately flooded with colour. “This isn’t - It’s not what it looks like -“

He was only distracted a moment, but that was all it took. 

Wilson had been keeping fire on both of them to cover Pratt’s advance. With a roar, the giant of a man lifted the crate they’d been sheltering and hefted it over his head. 

Drake rolled neatly out of the way to be sniped at by Wilson, but Kon took the crate on the full. 

“That was not gentlemanly,” he complained, shaking splinters from his hair. Kon stepped forward, pushing up his sleeves. “Everything they say about Englishmen fighting fair is a story you lot spin for the tourists, is it?”

Pratt glowered at him. “I should warn you,” he said, stepping forward to meet Kon. “I have never met a man I couldn’t best in wrestling.” He swung.

Kon blocked the punch and managed to send Pratt staggering back a few steps with one of his own. “Maybe I wasn’t properly introduced.”

“Don’t banter with him! Knock him out,” Luthor ordered as Kon and Pratt began the serious business of trading blows. “For g--’s sake, we are evacuating a castle here! We don’t have time for this!” Luthor was not impressed. “Wilson? If you can bring down an undead monster at 400 yards, surely you can hit one man --”

“He’s taken shelter behind the distillation unit. If a bullet hits that, the lot of us are done for,” Wilson reported then yelped as he was suddenly caught unawares by Pratt, traveling airborne at high speed. 

“Bravo, Kent! I say, that was well done,” Drake approved from the corner behind the tubes of glass. 

Kon shrugged. He was almost sorry the fight was over. It had felt so good to let loose without having to worry about keeping his strength down to match his opponent. 

“Why am I the only one around here who gets things done?” Luthor backed away, digging in his pocket. 

Drake saw what he intended before Kon did, but his warning was too late. “Look out, Conner! Get away, quickly!”

The same crippling pain rushed over Kon and he sank to his feet, weak against the strange power of the rock. “You . . . unholy fiend . . .” he gasped. 

“Yes, I think we’ve covered that.” Luthor dug his foot into Kon’s ribs. “I must ask you to stand, Mr Kent. If you do not, trust that this stone has the ability to kill you and I know how to use it. Along those lines, you’d better not be thinking of taking a shot at me, Mr Drake -- yes I must insist you stay in your corner -- that’s it. Kent, you’ll walk beside me like so --”

And now Luthor was using him as a shield? This was not Kon’s day. He looked rather helplessly over to where Drake was watching, his expression dark. 

Drake nodded. “Don’t do anything reckless,” he cautioned. “Conner -- you’re not alone.”

There was weight in the way he said that. 

“Come within ten feet of us and I’ll shoot,” Luthor threatened. “Now, Mr Kent, if you’d be so kind?”

Kon walked Luthor to the door. As if the entire process wasn’t humiliating enough, he rather suspected he was going to be sick. “Where did you get that stone?”

“That is a story I shall be delighted to tell you, but I rather feel that this isn’t the time,” Luthor said impatiently, as they turned into an underground garage. Ponderous metal creatures, of the same sort that had transported Kon to the village lay still and silent -- obviously, not to Luthor’s expectation. As Kon wondered how he’d managed to get such large constructions to the castle given the difficulty of the roads, Luthor swore angrily. 

“Where the h--- are Waller and Teth? We don’t exactly have time here --”

And the lights went out.

“This is getting very repetitive, Mr Drake,” Luthor said coolly, the green light of the rock causing strange shadows against his face. “When I threatened to shoot, I meant it, and I don’t much care if my target is you or Mr Kent here --”

“I feel so valued.”

“Ah, but you see I’m not Mr Drake.”

The voice was soft, feminine, purring almost --familiar but at the same time Kon couldn’t quite place it. There was a cruelty to it, a threat that didn’t quite ring true -- he swallowed. It couldn’t be --

“Beth?”

“So you did manage to survive Mr Drake,” Luthor said. “A real pity. I would have liked to have finished at least one of you --”

“But you did. Don’t you remember?” The awful voice was coming closer. Kon couldn’t pinpoint the exact location, and he turned trying to locate her. “I remember.”

Luthor tugged him towards one of the vehicles. “Purely a business matter you understand --”

“I REMEMBER!” The shriek sounded as though it were almost upon them. Luthor shoved the weakened Kon towards it, hastily scrambling to one of the transporters. “And I hunger for your blood! Nothing will prevent me from draining every drop from your body, Luthor! Behold your death!”

And suddenly Kon could see again, and he very much wished he couldn’t.

Between himself and Luthor was a ghastly figure, all shadow and horror. Long cruel fangs and inhuman eyes distorted Beth’s usually charming features -- no, it wasn’t Beth, not at all, just a vampyre with her shape -- Kon recoiled in horror as she drew upon Luthor.

“No -- Stay back!” Luthor still had his rifle in hand and he fired, point blank at the monstrous thing. The bullets passed through the creature with no more harm than to cause a vapourous cloud to rise from the point of impact, and with a panicked shout, Luthor took to his heels. The creature did not pursue.

Kon had more pressing concerns than Luthor’s imminent escape. He’d just been shot in the chest. Twice.

“Mr Kent, I’m so sorry! I wasn’t expecting him to shoot -- here, you must lie down.” Kon suddenly found himself being helped to the ground by a pair of icily cold hands, attached to a young woman who was, apparently, transparent. 

“Excuse me,” he said. “I don’t wish to seem impolite, but --”

“Of course, you probably don’t remember me. Greta Harm, we’ve met before. Of course you were mostly asleep at the time.”

“The library,” Kon remembered. “You woke me up --”

“How’d you do. Now we’ve been properly introduced, I hope you’ll forgive me removing your shirt.”

Kon swallowed. Greta’s hands were cold on his shirt and even where she wasn’t touching him he could feel the weight of the air around her, chilling and heavy. “Nice to meet you. Miss Harm, I appreciate the offer but I hardly feel this is the time or place --”

“To tend your wounds,” Greta explained. “You were shot.”

“I hadn’t forgotten.” Kon had always imagined that getting shot would be somewhat different. More painful for a start. Perhaps he was in shock? Or maybe this was an excess of adrenalin --

Greta’s exclamation drew Kon’s attention to his chest. “I don’t understand -- I saw you were shot --”

“I felt being shot --” Kon helped Greta tug down his shirt, but there was no wound no blood -- just the holes in his shirt where the bullets had hit him. As Kon tried to work this out, the two bullets fell out of his shirt. 

He carefully picked one up. 

The nose was flattened, dented upon impact with something solid but in all other respects it was an ordinary bullet --

“I don’t understand,” Kon said helplessly.

“Congratulations,” Drake said, patting him on the shoulder. “You are apparently impervious to bullets.” He took it from Kon’s grasp. “Lead ones, at least.”

He was limping. Greta exclaimed as Drake extended a hand to help Kon up. 

“Mr Drake, your foot -- are you hurt?”

“I think I strained it in the excitement,” Drake told her, apparently not even slightly disconcerted by Greta’s transparent state as he proceeded to offer a hand to her as well. “Regretfully, it has prevented me from stopping Wilson and Pratt from making an escape down the passage to the crypt. Since I left Beth in that passage, I suggest --”

“Beth?” Kon gripped Drake’s arm tightly. “She’s -- she’s not --”

“She was alive when I left her,” Drake said. “But I do feel we should hurry and endeavour to ensure that this is still the case --”

Kon did not need to be told twice. 

“I locked her into the cell for her own protection,” Drake explained as they retraced their steps hurriedly. 

“For her own protection?”

“Well naturally. If she’s in the cage she is protected against bodily attack at least. And, if she dies, the cage should be sufficient to contain a vampyre --”

Kon suppressed a shudder. “You are cold.”

“Practical.”

“Not practical enough,” Greta floated ahead of them down the hallway. 

Kon and Drake hurried to her side. The bars at the side of the cage had been bent, pushed apart by brute force to make a hole.

“Pratt,” Kon said. “That b------ braggart! The bars would be no trouble for him -- if he harmed so much as a hair on her head --”

“This hole isn’t big enough for Pratt to pass through,” Drake said. “I very much suspect that Beth did this.”

“But -- she’s so tiny! She couldn’t --”

“You assume she’s still Beth.”

Having the hope snatched away from him again was almost more than Kon could bear. “You said she was alive when you left her --”

“And she should have been fine had she followed my instructions to rest but there’s no telling what happened in the interval I was gone --” Drake looked up at down the corridor. “She could have gone either way -- Greta, do you know . . . ?”

Shattering glass and a frantic scream provided a small clue as to Beth’s whereabouts. Kon took off in the direction of the sound immediately. 

He outdistanced Drake and Greta, without even noticing, and was first to arrive on the horrific scene -- and if anything he’d seen that night deserved the designation ‘horrific’ it was this. The laboratory was over turned completely, the white of the walls splattered with red and the equipment smashed. Mr Teth lay unconscious -- or worse -- while in the middle of the room, making frantic gasping noises and, flailing her arms desperately, with her back to Kon, Mrs Waller was choking loudly. As he watched, trying to make sense of the scene before him, she collapsed, sinking to the floor and giving Kon a clear view of her attacker.

“Beth --”

“Kon!” Beth toasted him with the vial of blood she held in the hand she hadn’t been using to strangle Mrs Waller. “This is an unexpected pleasure.”

Kon made a soft, whimper-like sound of dismay. He couldn’t move, could only stare as she tipped her head back, draining the vial in a few gulps. 

Beth dropped the emptied vial to the ground where it shattered. Her skin was flushed, and she swayed unsteadily as she took a step toward Kon. Blood stained her mouth and clothes a vivid red. “I’m glad you’re here, Kon. Tim went and left me and I’ve been so lonely --”

“Mrs Waller,” Kon managed at last. “What did you do to her?”

“Her?” Beth looked back to frown at the limp body she’d just stepped over. “She was being most vexing. She wouldn’t stop screaming. My head hurt. I wanted her to stop.” She put a hand to her head, frowning. “You’ll have to forgive me. I’m not quite myself at the moment --”

Kon choked back a sob as she approached him, still helpless to move. He’d thought Greta’s impersonation was ghastly enough, but this -- this was a thousand times worse. Beth’s smile was the same, despite the blood that stained her chin and he was transfixed, unable to look or move away as she closed the last distance between them, laying her hand on Kon’s arm. 

“Dear, sweet Mr Kent,” she murmured, leaning into him, to gentle caress his cheek. “You must taste delicious --”

He could snap her neck, if he could just reach up and --

It was no use. Kon could not bring himself to hurt her even though he knew nothing remained of the Beth he loved. He just could not. He shuddered, waiting for the pin-prick of pain that would be his death --

Instead Beth slumped against his chest, and didn’t move.

Kon blinked. 

“Fascinating,” Drake said from behind Kon. 

Kon automatically put his arms about Beth, keeping her propped upright as he turned to Drake, who was kneeling beside Teth’s body. “I beg your pardon?”

“Unconscious, but not I think seriously injured -- have I offended, Conner?”

“Your . . .” Sister would have been incorrect. It still hurt to even think lover. “Beth is a vampyre and all you can say is fascinating? Of all the callous, unfeeling wretches in the world, you are surely the most wretched --”

“Far be it from me to interrupt, but I would like to make an observation.” Drake stepped over the probe Mrs Waller to examine the vials in the crate she’d been packing up. “Mr Kent, you may not be aware of this fact but vampyres are not known to snore.”

Kon stared at him, then turned his attention to Beth, slumbering against his neck. Her lungs shifted and he could feel the warmth of her breath. “She’s alive? But how --”

“The blood of a living vampyre is believed to have marvelously curative properties, is that not so?” Drake took Beth from Kon, scooping her into his arms. As she sighed and snuggled against his chest, he smiled fondly at her. “We shall have to add intoxicating to that list.”

“Intoxicating?”

“Yes,” Drake said with a sharp smile. “I do believe she is drunk.”


	15. Onwards!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The final chapter.

It was early morning when they finally retired. Drake had put Beth to bed much earlier, leaving her under Greta’s protection, while he and Kon assured the mob with torches that there was no need to burn down the castle, and that the vampyre had been dealt with and Luthor had fled. The mob appeared rather dissatisfied, at least until Drake promised them one pound a man if they would help him load Luthor’s library into boxes and ship it to London.

Kon was a little doubtful about the integrity of this. “Isn’t that theft?” he said, as he and Drake climbed the stairs to their room. 

“Think of it as just recompense,” Drake suggested. “He did try to kill Beth and myself. When you consider how close he came to succeeding, taking a few books pales in comparison. If Luthor disagrees, he can always take it up with the Director.”

He seemed so assured that Luthor would not pursue the matter that Kon didn’t raise another objection. 

At least, until he saw the sleeping arrangements. 

Beth had apparently decided she didn’t want to sleep alone, having pushed Kon and Drake’s beds together, and fallen asleep, curled up in their centre. She had changed into her white nightdress, and taken the opportunity to bathe and brush her hair. Free from any signs of the evening’s events, she was the very image of peaceful slumber, an impression only heightened by Greta, hovering somewhere near the ceiling, and also, apparently, fast asleep. 

“Dear Beth,” Drake said, patting her cheek as he sat on his half of the bed, and began unlacing his boots. “You know, there were a few points there where I thought we might not make it.”

“Ah ha ha ha,” Kon said, backing out of the room. 

Drake glanced at him. “What’s got into you?”

“Well, privacy, obviously -- I’ll find a vacant bedroom, there must be dozens --”

Drake just looked at him. “Conner,” he said. “Stop talking and get into bed.” He undid his tie, hanging it over the side of the bed. “It’s late, I’m tired, you’re tired, and I don’t have the patience for any of your American prudery.”

Kon was cowed into sitting down. “It doesn’t seem proper,” he said. “Shouldn’t we allow for Beth’s feelings of girlish modesty and reserve --”

Drake’s mouth twitched. “Knowing Beth as I do, I can assure you that if she felt the need for reserve she would not have moved the beds like so,” he said, folding his waistcoat over the headboard and settling down to sleep, otherwise fully clothed. “I imagine her experiences have left her feeling uncertain and in need of the reassuring presence of her friends.” He settled an arm about her side, raising an eyebrow at Kon. “You wouldn’t want to let her down in her time of need, would you?”

Kon reluctantly kicked his boots off and settled down to sleep. It seemed an awful liberty, but to be this close to Beth, watching her as she slept . . . He would lie awake the rest of the night, Kon decided as Drake blew out the candle, and just listen to her breathe, each soft breath a treasured proof of her survival and when the sun came up, he would watch it slowly illuminate her features and store them away forever in his heart as a treasured memory . . . 

Having made these resolutions, therefore, Kon was somewhat disconcerted when he woke up next to Drake. 

“Hwah --”

“For love of g--, some tea,” Drake said indistinctly and buried himself back under his pillows. 

Kon shifted away cautiously, sitting up slowly so as not to to disturb him further. He rubbed his eyes looking up and got his second shock of the morning. 

Beth was draped over the back of the arm chair watching him, her eyes yellow and luminous in the morning light and fixed intently on Kon. Her expression was more serious than Kon had even seen her, and he stared. 

It seemed that the moment stretched out forever. Kon couldn’t be sure if it were seconds or minutes before Beth spoke. “I couldn’t decide whether I wanted you to sleep so I could keep watching you like this, or wanted you to wake up so I could see your eyes again.” She reached out her hand as if she was going to touch him, then drew it back.

Kon swallowed. “You’ve been watching me all this time?”

She nodded. 

“Beth,” Kon reached for her eagerly. “Do you,” he said, kneeling by the armchair, his hands tight on her bare shoulders. “Is it possible that you --?”

Beth placed her finger over his lips. “Don’t say it,” she said. “Don’t, Kon.” 

“Why not?” Kon said. “I love you. I would do anything for you.”

“You don’t want my love,” Beth said unhappily. “Kon, you’re sweet, good -- innocent. If I love you, I’ll make you like me.”

“Would that be so bad?” 

“You tell us.” Kon jumped at the light touch at his shoulder, letting go of Beth. He hadn’t even realised that Drake was awake, much less mobile. He shivered as Drake’s touch lightly travelled down his arm then gasped as he was suddenly spun around. 

Kon was more clothed than Drake, having the advantage of having worn a shirt that hadn’t been cut to pieces to bed, but as Drake smirked at him, he suddenly felt profoundly naked. “What do you --”

He’d never expected to be kissed by a man, especially not one as proper as Drake, and the kiss was so forceful and clever it took Kon a few seconds to react. He shoved Drake back stumbling back hastily. “Wuh -- what the h--- was that?”

“Come now, Mr Kent. I am given to understand I’m not entirely unskilled -- surely you recognise a kiss?”

Kon fought the urge to wipe his mouth. “But why? Have you gone mad?”

“Consider it along the lines of an explanation,” Drake said, looking not at Kon but at Beth. “Was it really so bad?”

“Bad? That was -- it’s wrong. Completely.” Even if it had been -- “I don’t even want to think about it.”

“That is, of course, your perogative. If you wouldn’t mind, Mr Kent?” Drake drew Beth tightly against his side. “I should like to talk to Beth in private.”

“I demand an apology --” 

Drake, ignoring Kon’s presence, ran his hand down Beth’s cheek in a soft caress, then bent his mouth to hers. Kon swallowed as they furthered the passionate embrace. 

“Excuse me -- I’m still here --”

Beth moaned as Drake pressed her against the back of the armchair. Kon realised they weren’t intending on stopping. Drake was doing this purposefully, to get to him. Kon should call his bluff, last him out -- but he really did not need to see this. 

Face burning, and feeling distinctly uncomfortable, Kon made good his escape. 

He walked up and down the Castle battlements in a vain effort to calm his feelings. He was less hot and bothered by the time he returned inside, but still unnerved by the situation. He’d only half believed the tales they told about the European elite -- and Drake was such a gentleman -- before the kiss, Kon would have said the very model of an Englishman. And he had to admit the kiss was --

Kon couldn’t help but supect the real reason he was upset was that Drake had kissed him like he was nothing.

Kon paused in the main hallway to check on the condition of their luggage -- delivered at last. He found Greta there, sitting moodily on the stairs. He paused, then remembered the ghostly girl had helped him escape Luthor. “Something wrong?”

“Nothing you need trouble yourself with, Mr Kent.”

Kon sat down on the stairs next to her. “Go on,” he said. “You can tell me.”

Greta sighed. “I can’t say I liked having Luthor live in my Castle. But it was so nice having people here -- and now you’re all going and I’ll be left here alone again.”

Kon had not considered this. He patted -- or tried to -- Greta’s shoulder sympathetically. “Maybe you’ll get some tenants soon --”

“No normal people would ever want to live here,” she said gloomily.

“We’re hardly normal,” Drake said behind them on the stairs, making both of them start. “But if you don’t mind keeping company with us, I have a suggestion that may be of interest to you.”

He looked spick and span, the perfect image of the respectable young man about town. He had Greta eating out of his hand.

Her eyes lit up as she greeted him happily. “You do? Oh, please, tell me!”

“You haunt the castle, is that correct?” Drake asked her. “Any specific part?”

“No, I don’t think so --”

“So, if I were to place one of the castle stones amongst the books we’re transporting to the League library --”

“Oh! Oh, Mr Drake!” Kon couldn’t envy Drake this embrace -- Greta’s merest touch was ice. To his credit, Drake only flinched a little. “Mr Drake -- I am forever in your debt --”

“No thanks necessary,” Drake told her. “It was as much Beth’s idea, as it was mine.”

“I shall thank her immediately!” Greta gave Drake another quick hug then tore up the stairs in a cloud of smokey vapour. 

Drake tidied his shirt collar and tie, then straightened his shirt cuffs. “Beth and I hope to leave this afternoon,” he said. “I don’t suppose you’d care to travel with us?”

“After everything you’ve done to encourage me not to?”

Drake raised an eyebrow at him. “I don’t know want you’re implying --”

“If you expect me to believe that, you have seriously underestimated me,” Kon told him. “I don’t know what your game is, but I won’t be toyed with by you.”

“You won’t entertain the notion that the kiss was anything but an act of frivolity?”

“It was hardly an act of fancy. I know you too well to believe that. But whatever your purpose was, my feelings were not your consideration,” Kon continued heatedly. 

“And if I told you that on the contrary, your reaction was my foremost consideration?”

“I would call you a liar.” Kon looked at Drake squarely. “I don’t pretend to understand you or . . . what happened,” he said. “But if you hoped that your decadent display of contempt for the standards of moral behavior would convince me to leave your party, you are mistaken. I admire you, and I care deeply for Beth, and while I cannot condone your --”

“Illicit passion?”

“--relationship, I must confess I am drawn to the two of you all the same. Despite your degenerate ways, I have come to consider you friends. I will travel with you, but you must do me the favour of not taking me for a fool.”

Drake considered him a moment then smiled. “Beth will be delighted. She was most vexed, and took the opportunity to give me her opinion on my behaviour. She was afraid my conduct might have convinced you to jump ship. ”

“That was your purpose, I suppose?” Kon was secretly pleased to hear that Beth was annoyed with Drake. 

“That would be telling.” Drake gave Kon a rather considering look. “You seem to be taking the entire matter rather better than I might have expected.”

Kon shrugged, beginning his way upstairs. “I was warned about the hedonistic and immoral habits of the Europeans. I would have been rather disappointed if I hadn’t been inappropriately propositioned once on my trip.”

“Then I’m glad I could oblige.” Drake’s smile was sharp and self-mocking, and Kon found his feet had slowed on the stairway without his direction. It was not an unexpected occurence, Drake had a strong, almost magnetic pull when he was charming. “Although, that hardly seems to me to count as a serious proposition. I can do better, if you’d like --”

Kon looked at him severely. “What did we just discuss about toying with my feelings?” he said. 

“Ah, but this is flirting.”

Kon shivered. Drake’s smile was such that he couldn’t be sure just how he meant the words -- “We are, under no circumstances, flirting with each other.”

“I must politely disagree.”

“As perverse in argument as in your passions?”

“I strive to be consistent.”

Kon couldn’t help it; he laughed. “At least I know that travelling with you will not be dull.”


	16. Epilogue

The fortnight that Kon spent travelling with Drake and Beth was one of the happiest of his young life. Beth shared Kon’s excitement at viewing famous monuments and artworks, and was a walking library of infomation about the misfortunes and unhappy spirits that were, according to local legend, supposed to attend them. Drake had a sardonic comment or observation to add to her stories, and between the two of them, they were able to give Kon a tour of Europe like no other. Kon, in return, promised that should they come to the States, he would take them over New Orleans. Both appeared tempted by this prospect, although Drake said that League business kept him very busy and Beth mentioned that she didn’t have that kind of money. 

Kon managed to stop himself from adding that as his wife, Carnegie would cover her travel costs as well. During their time travelling together, the three of them had come to a subtle understanding. Kon would stop proposing to Beth, Drake would stop flirting with Kon. 

It was an amicable enough situation, although Kon hadn’t entirely given up hope. More than once, he’d looked up to see Beth watching him with an expression that he’d never seen her look at Drake with, and he fancied that she took as much pleasure as he did in the conversations and walks they shared while Drake took care of matters of business that he explained only with the description ‘League.’ 

Saying goodbye to them was unexpectedly hard considering the brevity of their acquaintance. Beth tearfully presented Kon with a locket containing a curl of her hair, and Kon had a hard time keeping his composure as he slipped the bracelet he had bought her about her wrist, and kissed her for the last time. 

Drake was surprisingly tolerant of this, interrupting only as boarding was announced for their train, to present Kon with a firm handshake and an envelope that he said he hoped might prove useful to Kon, and which was later revealed to contain several pages of neatly written notes on a metorite than had impacted in Kansas and the strange properties that specimens of the rock had exhibited. After one last admonition that Kon must look him up were he ever in London, Drake led Beth, wet-eyed, but struggling manfully to conduct herself with dignity, onto the train and out of Kon’s life.

Kon threw himself into his research with abandon, hoping to distract himself from the loss of his companions with activity. However, he often found himself wondering what Beth would think of a fact, or ruminating on what Drake’s opinion of a historic record might be. 

They were so often in his thoughts in fact, that one day, while travelling through rustic farmland, when Kon looked out the window of his train and saw a young man that could have been Drake, he was not surprised. He’d fancied he’d heard Drake call out to him so often during his journies, and every time he saw brown curls emerging from beneath the brim of a bonnet, he fancied --

The young man was extraordinarily like Drake in looks, but nothing like him in dress or attitude. There was no way the immaculately attired Englishman would ever loiter in a country lane, dressed in trousers and shirt more suited to a french farmer, let alone laugh as he waited for his companion, climbing the apple tree, to throw fruit down to him. Yet for all this, they were extraordinarily like --

The youth climbing the apple tree was tanned and athletic, pulling himself up the branches with ease. He was mostly obscured by leaves, but Kon had glimpses of messy brown hair and garments similar to those of Drake’s double. A typical country boy. 

He continued to watch them as the train refuelled, thinking wistfully of the farm back in Smallville, and Ma’s apple pie, and the second boy jumped triumphantly from the tree, his arms full of apples and a smile that Kon would know anywhere turned for a second towards the train and Kon knew.

The sharp whistle of the train shocked Kon out of his thoughts and he looked up to see the apple tree and the lane moving away, its occupants already making their way down the road. Scrambling for the clasp, Kon struggled to open the window and call out but in a burst of metallic clatter and a cloud of steam, the train turned the corner and they were gone.

\---

Flowers in Rome were ridiculously overpriced, but Tim fought the urge to argue with the flower-seller, and came away with a ridiculous cluster of fresh roses. 

He guarded his prize carefully as he made his way back to the hotel. There was something about carrying flowers that made him feel very self conscious. Tim suspected all the people he passed of smiling knowingly at the bouquet, and the hotel porter opened the door to him with a comment on the wonders of love. Tim smiled tightly, and made his way to the lift as fast as he could.

Wonders of love indeed. He’d never bought Bart flowers before, but his companion had been pensive the entire train journey, toying idly with his fan or turning over the bracelet Kon had given him. He must surely be missing the American, and Tim fancied that the flowers might prove a welcome distraction. 

As he reached Bart’s room, he was puzzled to hear a series of metallic clicks and pushed the door open without waiting to knock. He couldn’t quite stifle an exclamation of dismay at the sight that met him. 

Bart sat in front of the mirror in his nightgown, scissors in one hand, and a pool of brown curls on the floor about him. As Tim watched, he selected another lock of hair, held it out, and with a snip of his scissors, it was gone. 

Tim placed the flowers on the endtable by the door quietly and joined Bart at the mirror. He should have been expecting this. He wound his fingers through a patch that Bart had not yet reached, bringing the hair to his cheek in a motion of goodbye. He let his hands rest on Bart’s shoulders as he met Bart’s eyes in the mirror. “You shouldn’t have cut it so short. It’ll make it harder the next time --”

“There won’t be a next time.” Bart’s mouth tightened. 

“Oh?”

“I’m never being Beth again. I can’t! I hate it, hate this --” 

He sounded on the verge of becoming hysterical. Tim kissed the back of his neck in apology, and took the scissors from Bart. “The back is rather uneven. Let me finish it for you.”

He combed his fingers through Bart’s hair, straightening it out before starting to cut it. Bart’s breathing slowly evened out again, and he murmured a soft ‘thank you’ as Tim finished. 

Neither of them mentioned the flowers.


End file.
